


Like Father, Like Son

by nerdywriter36



Category: Love Never Dies - Lloyd Webber, Phantom - Susan Kay, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Complete, F/M, forgive me if there are any minor errors, im constantly editing, no beta here we die like men, so they will be caught eventually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 36
Words: 298,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23330245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdywriter36/pseuds/nerdywriter36
Summary: Christine is dead and the Phantom is alone once more. But this time...not completely. He now has Gustave, their child, with him. After learning the truth, he is determined to stay with his true father. Though talented in many areas, will fatherhood be the one skill Erik cannot master? A continuation of Love Never Dies with heavy Kay influence.
Relationships: Christine Daaé/Erik | Phantom of the Opera, Gustave Daaé & Erik | Phantom of the Opera
Comments: 114
Kudos: 66





	1. A Family of Our Own Design

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edited 08-25-20

_**SEPTEMBER 1907** _

_**ERIK** _

"We can't all be like Christine," I said, only to feel Meg tear herself from my arms. I could feel every ounce of rage directed towards me in her movements, but nothing could have prepared me for her actions that followed.

"Christine...Christine. Always Christine!"

The shot was fired and I found myself jumping back a bit. Typically, gunfire never jolted me, but something about that time made it different. Something deep within me had known she wasn't aiming for me, but for some morbid reason, I had hoped she was.

As I stumbled back, I looked down at my chest, preparing myself to see the scarlet blood spreading through the crisp white of my shirt, but found none. I felt no searing pain, and that terrified me even more, knowing that I hadn't been shot...but that someone behind me surely had.

I barely had time to think before I turned around and threw my arms out to catch Christine as she collapsed. Yelling filled the air, but after so long missing that voice, my ears were finely tuned to it. All I could hear was her, and by the look on my angel's face, all she wanted - after all this time - was me.

"Christine," I breathed as I fell to my knees and held her close. "Giry, go get help!" I turned to see the woman seemingly stuck in one place as she stared at the two of us. "Go!" I repeated, my voice cracking as I felt my emotions bubbling over.

"Father! Where's Father?!" Gustave exclaimed. As I grabbed at Christine's dress and pressed it to her wound, I glanced up to see the boy frantically searching for Raoul - the man he thought was his father.

"Gustave, your father! Your real father!"

I could have sworn I felt my heart stop beating in my chest when she spoke. I looked at the boy and saw the confusion painted on his face, then turned to Christine to see a pained smile on her face.

"Look with your heart, and not with your eyes. The heart understands, the heart never lies," Christine quietly sang as she grabbed her son's hand and gave it a squeeze.

Gustave's eyes flicked between me and his mother, tears quickly pooling as his little mind no doubt worked overtime to process all the new information that he was being presented with.

"No!" he finally screamed as he took off running.

"Gustave, please!" I cried as I watched him rush down the pier. I could feel Christine trying to get up, to go after him, but she was too weak. I thought that I had finally discovered what true heartbreak was when Christine left me in the catacombs of the Opera House, but that...seeing that boy, the son I never thought I would have, react so violently to learning his parentage broke my heart into more pieces than I ever thought possible.

I turned back to Christine - the fallen angel in my arms - and tightened my hold on her as she managed to give me a small smile.

"Once upon another time, our story had only begun. I had a taste of joy, the most I ever knew," I said, unable to stop a smile from appearing on my face when I saw Christine grin at me; always finding joy even in the direst moments. "But now there isn't any time, and somehow our story is done."

I took a shaky breath then as a frightening question crossed my mind. "And what about the boy? What am I to do?"

I felt her run her thumb across the back of my hand that she was holding so tightly. "Just love, just live," she whispered. "And give what you can give, and take the love that you deserve."

"Just love, just live. I'll give all that I have," I promised as I hugged her closer to my chest. "And take what little I deserve." How could I believe her when she said I **deserved** love? After all that I had done...there was nothing that I deserved less than love, but at that moment, I would have promised her anything.

"Come closer, I beg you," she said quietly as she laid her hand over my heart. "Closer still."

There was no real place to go, but for her, in that delicate moment, I would do anything, so I oriented myself to hold her closer than ever, our foreheads practically leaning against each other as I waited on bated breath for whatever it was she would say next

"Remember...love never dies," Christine managed to say, her voice - her perfect instrument - losing its strength every second.

"Kiss me one last time."

I locked eyes with her, unsure of how to react; that was the last thing I could have imagined she would say. But she gave me a nod, telling me that she wanted this just as much as I did, so I moved my hand to cup her cheek, and she wrapped her arms around me to pull me towards her.

When our lips met, the kiss was desperate but full of love. An attempt to make up for ten years of lost time. We were trying to express ten years' worth of pent-up desire and emotion in one gesture, despite the time slipping through our fingers. We could do nothing to stop it, so we simply made the most of what we had.

Far too soon, my heart skipped a beat when I felt her grip loosen. Her arms dropped to my side but I held on, silently begging her to return my kiss. That could not be it, that could not possibly be the end. I had finally had my dear Christine back in my arms and God had seen fit to rip my angel from me.

My lips finally left hers and I allowed myself to look at her face. It was paler than usual, the soft natural blush long gone from her cheeks and replaced with her own blood that had stained my fingers. Her lips were still pursed slightly, her eyes shut...she looked at peace.

I had never hated the sight of a tranquil expression so much.

"Oh, Christine," I breathed as tears pooled in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I kissed her forehead softly, lips trembling, before I laid her body on the ground as if she were merely sleeping, my hand lingering on her cheek. I finally forced myself to my feet and slipped my jacket off, then draped it over her still body.

As I straightened up, I saw Gustave slowly approaching his mother's body, his eyes wide as he processed what had happened. He kneeled next to her then and laid on top of her, his hand wrapped tightly around hers and his shoulders shaking as tears fell from his eyes.

I managed to stifle my own cries as I stumbled to the edge of the pier and fell to my knees. Should I run? Should I jump? Now that my Angel of Music is gone forever, what am I supposed to do? I hung my head and finally let my tears fall, doing my best to quiet my sobs; my child was grieving behind me and the last thing I wanted was to disturb him.

Then, I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder blade and I turned to see the face of Gustave - the face of my son - looking back at me. Tear stains were fresh on his cheeks and I could see the pain in his eyes. You're a father now, I thought to myself. Comfort the boy. Your boy.

So I did in the best and only way I knew how.

"Love never dies. Love never falters. Once it has spoken, love is yours," I sang quietly, echoing the words that I had written, that Christine had sung only moments ago. "Love never dies. Love will continue."

It was then, as I sang to him, that Gustave did something I never could have expected.

He hugged me.

A warm sensation burst through my chest despite all the pain around me and in my heart. This was my boy. I had a son who was hugging me after having seen my face, all out of his own want. My ears were still ringing from the gunshot, my lips still tingling from her kiss, but it all melted away. He had become my world, and nothing would steal that away from me.

He leaned back from our embrace and reached up to wipe away a tear that I hadn't noticed falling down my cheek. As I managed a weak smile, though, it dawned on me; he had the right to know what he was getting into, how his life was about to change even more than it already had.

"Listen, please, Gustave. I know that neither of us was prepared to know what we are to each other, but that is the situation in which we find ourselves. I understand if you do not want to come with me...I can bring Raoul back and you can go with him if that is your wish. However, if you want to stay with me, I would love for the chance to be your father."

He didn't respond with words. I don't blame him for that; it had been a hard night for us both. I was surprised I was able to speak. Instead, he simply nodded and took my hand, and that was all I required. I squeezed his hand in response as I stood and we walked away from the pier together, with me only casting one last look at Christine over my shoulder as I heard approaching voices and sirens; Madame Giry's help that had arrived too late, it seemed.

"We're going to be just fine, Gustave," I whispered. "That much I can promise you."

* * *

"My room is just down the hall," Gustave said as he walked into the hotel suite where he, Christine, and the Vicomte had stayed, with me following close behind him.

I nodded. "Go collect your things. I can wait here," I replied.

The boy smiled and walked towards his bedroom while I hung back in the sitting room, scanning the surroundings to busy myself. An abandoned whiskey glass sat atop a nearby table, and sheet music rested on the piano; to anyone else, a normal family with a normal life could have stayed there, though that couldn't be further from the truth. I sighed and leaned against the instrument as I thought back to the night Christine and I reunited what felt like only a few moments ago. The song we sang as our emotions and memories took over in a way that only music could express...that night we had both recalled so vividly. I soon found myself humming the melody, our words flooding my mind.

_And I loved you, and I left you, and I had to! Both of us knew why! And yet, I won't regret, from now until I die, the night I can't forget beneath a moonless sky._

My heart now ached to remember that night. It shouldn't have ended the way it did; she should have been by my side along with our son. She knew what she was doing, unlike me; she had a life outside of the darkness I had pulled her into.

I should have been the one to take the bullet.

I was so lost in thought that I jumped when Gustave tapped my arm, but immediately felt terrible when I noticed that I had scared him.

"Yes, Gustave?" I asked him.

"I have everything," he said quietly as he held up the large suitcase in hand. "Are you okay? You were just...staring into space and humming."

"Just reminiscing, that's all," I replied. I managed to at least give him a smirk; any happier gesture seemed inappropriate.

"I've heard my mother hum that song before. Did you teach it to her?"

"In a way, I suppose," I replied. My heart had swelled at the thought that Christine had held onto the song just as I had; one way or another, we always had each other with us.

"Well, if you have everything, we can head to my home for the night. I shall reserve boat tickets to Paris for tomorrow evening...Here, let me take that for you." I reached out to take the suitcase from him, as he was so obviously struggling, but he took a step back.

"I'm okay. I'm stronger than I look," he insisted as he proceeded to lift the case higher off the ground as a show of strength, looking up at me with a small smile.

"Well, you are strong, aren't you? Just like your mother." I couldn't help but recall that aspect of her; she may not have been physically strong, but mentally, emotionally, she was the strongest person I had ever known.

We were about to walk out of the hotel suite when Gustave gasped as he caught sight of something sitting on a nearby ottoman.

"Can we bring this?" he asked as he gestured to his music box - the one that I had handcrafted when I had learned that Christine was coming to Coney Island with a child in tow. I remember the hours spent making it, having it play the song I sang to her when I had brought her to the catacombs for the first time. "You gave it to me when we got here, so I want to keep it."

I managed a small smile as I picked up the music box. "Of course. Now, come along. It's been a difficult night - you need to get some rest. We both do"

* * *

The walk had been slow. No matter how many times I had offered to take the suitcase, the boy refused despite how shaky his steps were due to exhaustion. I thought back and wondered if that was how Nadir must've felt dealing with my stubbornness, only to quickly resolve that I must have been a hundred times worse.

"So this is where you live?" Gustave asked as he walked into my home and set his suitcase down with a loud thud.

"That it is," I replied simply. "It isn't much, but I work so much that I am almost never here. Anything elaborate would be wasteful."

Gustave nodded understandingly as he walked over to my armchair and sat down. "It may be simple, but I like it."

I shot him a small smile. "Just wait here. Feel free to look around while I pack up my own things. I won't be long."

I saw him nod once more as I walked down the short hallway to my own bedroom. It wasn't as extravagant as things I had designed in the past; only a bed, armoire, desk, and a few shelves furnished it. I lifted the suitcase that I always had on hand onto the bed and opened it, filling it with the extra suits and pair of shoes that I had to wear. My spare masks followed; another white one with a light blush over the cheekbone, and one black as night. An extra tie and a few dress shirts joined them, and I moved to grab another suitcase for my other belongings.

My folder of music sheets was set inside with my pens and ink. I stowed away some memorable items that I always kept with me as well: the diamond collar that once adorned my precious cat, Ayesha; the architectural sketches that I had drawn up as a child; the key to my childhood home, despite it no longer belongs to my family. Aside from all of those things, though, one of my most prized possessions was the very scarf that Christine had performed Elissa's aria, Think of Me, in Hannibal with. I had kept it after the performance and had managed to get it out of the Opera as I fled from both the police and the fire.

I closed the suitcases and left them by the side of my bed, then walked back to the front of the house to check on the boy. "Gustave, are you..." I began, but trailed off when I found him asleep in my armchair, hugging a pillow to his chest as though it were a stuffed bear. He was calm, taking steady, even breaths. That's when I was finally able to take in who I was looking at; my son. He was my son and he was absolutely perfect. Every fear about having children melted away when I saw his face, though it seemed odd; whatever genetic mutation that had turned me into the man that I am couldn't have just disappeared, but I dared not question it.

The more I looked, the more I realized he could never have been Raoul's child, and eventually, he would have come to that realization on his own. I could see no trace of that man in the boy, and yet, I also saw none of myself; all I saw was his mother.

I was startled when he shifted slightly in his sleep, but his movement allowed me to have a proper look at his face. That's when I saw it; the right half of his face. It was ever so slightly angled down compared to the other half of his face. I could almost cry; that was the same side as my horrid disfigurement. So there was a piece of me in him. I found myself smiling at the sight as I grabbed a nearby blanket and covered him up, only to be interrupted by a knock at the door. Knowing it could only be a close associate of mine at my home address, I walked to the door with no weapon in hand and opened it to see Dr. Gangle on the front step.

"Yes?" I inquired.

I saw his eyes flick to see the child behind me, but he knew to withhold his questions. "Master. The police are all throughout the park, saying something about-"

"A gunshot," I finished. "I am aware. I was there when it happened. Christine Daaé is dead. I am leaving for Paris tomorrow with her child. Go fetch me two tickets for the evening boat journey tomorrow."

"Yes, sir." He was compliant and didn't ask questions. I liked that one.

I watched him go, taking the moment to observe the glowing lights of Phantasma; once my greatest masterpiece, now, my worst nightmare. All it took was one bullet to topple an empire. Years of work, toil, sweat all had to be left behind. I had hoped Gustave would inherit it when I found out he was my son. However, looking at it now, I didn't know how he could. We had to leave, there was no way around it.

Even still, slight panic filled my mind. Not that my accomplices were incompetent, but how could Phantasma run without Mr. Y? While I feared for the success of the park after my departure, all that mattered to me now was my son; the little family of our own design, and I knew that he could not survive - or thrive - here in any way.

Returning to my room, I tried to sleep for what felt like hours, but to no avail. My mind was racing, replaying the events of that night. Over and over again, I heard the shot and the scream, but the silence after her death stuck out most of all. I gave up eventually since sleep was obviously not an option and decided to go through my novels and pick a few for the journey. I had not planned to bring any of my books, figuring that they could be replaced, but I had the time and a very low tolerance for doing nothing.

About a half-hour had passed and I was enthralled in a book when the soft knocking on the door nearly made me jump out of my chair. Walking over to it, I looked through the peephole to see that it was only Gangle, back with the tickets.

"Here you are, sir," he said as he handed the small slips of paper over to me once I had opened the door.

"Thank you. I know you must have a lot of questions, but sadly I can answer none of them. Just know that I entrust you with the safekeeping of the park. You've been nothing but a good friend to me."

"May I simply ask when you'll be back?" Gangle inquired, concern lacing his voice. He was holding his hat in his hands and fiddled with it every so often, which gave away his slightly nervous disposition.

"I'm not coming back."

He seemed to be in shock for a few moments. Then, he stood up straight and said, "Well, if that's the case, it's been an honour, sir."

"Same to you." And with that, we shook hands and parted ways for the last time.

Leaving me and my thoughts alone in the silence once more.

* * *

The morning had been quiet. Gustave had slept in until the late morning, but I had been up all night busying myself with making preparations to leave. I left a small bowl of fruit on the table for him to find when he woke up, then sat on my small patio that overlooked the park with a book in hand. As I was reading, I heard the door open and turned to see Gustave shuffle onto the patio.

"Good morning," I said as I set my book down on the table next to me. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes," Gustave mumbled as he rubbed his face with his hands. "Are we leaving yet?"

"The tickets are for this evening. We still have a few hours." I stood up and walked over, resting my hand on his shoulder. "Your face is all swollen. Go wash it with water and grab the fruit that I prepared for you. Then you can show me what you can do on the piano. How does that sound?"

The suggestion of the piano seemed to wake him up a little more, so he shuffled back inside to get changed and wash up while I followed him inside to wait for him, a small hint of excitement about spending a full day with my son starting to build up inside of me.

* * *

"Gustave, why don't you just give your luggage to Squelch? He would be happy to help you," I said as I paused yet again to wait for Gustave to catch up with myself and Squelch, Phantasma's resident strong man.

"No, I'm fine," Gustave replied as he lugged his suitcase along. "We can see the boat from here! I can make it."

I couldn't help but smile. I admired the boy's resilience - it reminded me of Christine so much. And myself, in some bizarre way.

"Master, look," Squelch said as he directed my attention to where our boat was docked. Apart from the other travellers walking up the ramp to board the ship, a horde of photographers and reporters were lying in wait. It didn't require a genius to know that they were waiting for me.

"Gustave, stay behind me," I instructed as I took his suitcase from him. "Just keep your head down and walk fast."

"Why? What's going on?" he asked.

"Just listen to me." I ensured he was close behind me and picked up my own pace. My heart was racing, hoping they wouldn't notice us.

Those hopes were swiftly dashed.

As we reached the ship, the camera flashes and yelling started, so I let Squelch onto the ship to drop our luggage in our room and kept Gustave behind me as I turned around to face the wolves.

"Mister Y! Where were you when the shot was fired?"

"Do you have any suspicions as to who the killer is?"

"Where are you off to? And who will be running Phantasma in your absence?"

I took a deep breath, formulating answers as my eyes adjusted to the brightness of the camera flashes. I knew I couldn't be entirely honest with them; I would end up entangled in the very issue that I was trying to escape.

"I was in my workplace composing a new performance to be put on here at Phantasma, but with the events yesterday, that show will have to be put on hold," I answered, lying through my teeth and eternally grateful that the reporters were completely clueless. "As I was nowhere near the site of the incident, I can make no assumptions in terms of the perpetrator, but I can say that Christine Daaé will be dearly missed. She was an inspired performer and there will never be another like her.

"I am currently en route to my home country of France and am unsure of when I will return. Until then, I am entrusting Phantasma to Mister Squelch and my close associates. The park is in good hands." I stepped to the side to allow my strong man to rejoin me but accidentally allowed the reporters to see Gustave - precisely what I did not want to do.

"Is that the Vicomte's son? What is he doing with you?" one reporter called out, which only inspired his associates to fire off similar inquiries.

I managed to stifle a groan, knowing I would have to lie even more. I was giving the reporters too much as it was by telling them where we were going; I didn't need to be wrapped up in a romantic scandal on top of everything else.

"The Vicomte de Chagny and I made an agreement; while he makes funeral arrangements for his wife, I will keep the boy with me."

However, that answer did nothing to satisfy them. The cameras flashed seemingly brighter than ever, and I turned my face away to shield my eyes. As I did, I saw Gustave's panicked expression, tears in his eyes. Something within my chest seemed to boil over - the paternal instinct that had always been there and had been repressed for so long - and I turned back to the reporters, newly frustrated for a reason deeper than they deserved to know.

"I'm sorry, I wouldn't expect you vultures to understand, but you are making the child quite uncomfortable. I would advise that you leave us be so we can board the boat for Paris. That is all I have to say on the matter," I said through gritted teeth before I turned and gently pushed Gustave forward. "Just walk. Ignore those fools, my boy. They mean nothing."

As we walked, I heard the yelling start to cease, and I knew that Squelch was fulfilling his work as my strong man. I smiled quickly at the captain waiting at the top of the ramp and ushered Gustave through the ship towards our cabin. Once we got there, he was my only priority. I knelt down to his level and hugged him.

"Are you alright?"

"I am now. I was so scared. My heart was beating so fast I thought it would explode," he explained as he squeezed onto me tighter. "But...why didn't you tell them that they were wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well... **you're** my father."

I had never considered how not acknowledging him as my own would make him feel. I had only been thinking about how to get away from the reporters as quickly as possible.

"I am, Gustave. I didn't correct them because it made our lives easier. I'm going to be very honest with you - if I had corrected them, that would have tarnished the public memory of your mother beyond reparation. They would scar her legacy as the soprano who-" I paused and tried to refocus my train of thought. The last thing I wanted was for him to feel like an accident or a mistake. "No matter. I said what I had to say to get them to leave us alone. I am not ashamed of you, and neither was she. She loved you more than anything else in the world. As do I. But if I had corrected them, they never would have let us leave. Do you understand?"

"I understand. I'm sorry, Papa."

He called me Papa. My heart was fuller than it ever had been in my entire life. To hear my child bestow that title upon me was something I never knew I needed. I hugged him again, both to thank him and reassure him, and we simply sat there for a long while.

* * *

A few hours had passed by, the boat having begun its journey towards France, and both Gustave and I had nodded off. He had fallen asleep almost immediately, but I had been too uptight to sleep, so I read for a while before my eyes got heavy and I gave in to my body's need for rest.

However, not long after I had fallen asleep, my habit of being a light sleeper came in handy, as I was awoken by Gustave thrashing around and whimpering in his sleep. I quickly got out of bed and walked over to him, but as I sat on the edge of his bed and reached out to put my hand on him for reassurance, his eyes opened and he sat up in bed.

"Gustave, it's alright," I said quietly.

The boy looked at me, a slight confusion draped over his face in the darkness. Once that washed away and he realized what was happening, he moved closer, then wrapped his arms around me and leaned his head against my chest.

"I miss Mother," he whispered.

I held him tight, giving him a squeeze when I felt his silent tears starting to soak through my thin nightshirt.

"I know. I miss her too."

That was where we sat for quite some time; me on the edge of the bed holding Gustave, swaying back and forth in an attempt to lull him back to sleep, quietly humming the song that I had sung to Christine so long ago, the same one I had placed in his music box. At that moment, I realized that some part of me had always wanted to be a father. Even with me turning my back on my natural desires and emotions, thinking that there was no way I would ever have a child; with all my fears of passing down my condition, I couldn't bear if another child had to grow up with my face, or even a variation of it. However, what I felt at that moment erased all of that. That was true satisfaction; being able to rock my son to sleep, knowing that he felt safe in my arms.

After humming the entirety of the song, I assumed that Gustave would have fallen asleep, so I got up and started to move, but oh, how wrong was I. Instead of laying back down to sleep, Gustave tightened his hold on me, somehow managing to cuddle up even closer to me. I honestly hadn't thought that possible; there wasn't much of my bony frame to hug.

"Alright, alright," I said, rubbing his back. "How about a story? I have plenty of those."

I felt his head move in a quick nodding motion, so I positioned myself to lean against the headboard while still holding him close. It took me longer than I would care to admit to think of an age-appropriate story to tell him, but one soon dawned on me.

"Well, the one that comes to mind is from when I was a child with my dog, Sasha."

"You had a dog? Gustave asked quietly, a twinge of excitement in his voice.

"I did, yes. She was a beautiful golden spaniel, and we got into quite a bit of trouble together." I chuckled. "My mother was busy enough trying to handle me! Never mind me and my little partner in crime. I remember one time when my mother's good friend, Marie, was watching over me, and I managed to sneak into the leftover Christmas chocolates from atop the cupboard while Sasha stood guard. The two of us sat under the dining room table and ate too many chocolates. Poor Sasha got sick, and I was so worried that my mother would find out, but Marie was very kind and kept our little secret. Sasha was back up to play very soon. If only my mother knew what the two of us got up to together."

As I finished the story, a happy smile on my face as I reflected on the fond memories, I felt Gustave's arms slip from around my waist. "Finally," I breathed as I moved at a snail's pace to slip myself away from his arms. I stood and held his upper body as I lowered him down so his head was on the pillow, then adjusted the sheets and tucked him in. I started to walk away but stopped myself. I turned back and bent over, gently kissing his forehead.

"Goodnight, my son."

* * *

"Gustave," I said as I grabbed my hat from the coat hook. "Are you ready to go?"

Gustave nodded as he heaved his suitcase off of the bed, a new light in his eyes after getting some well-needed rest, though he was still as stubborn as ever when it comes to carrying that bag.

"Yes, Papa."

"Well, let's be off then," I replied, a smile on my face after hearing him use his new title for me.

I held the door open for him, allowing him to tug his suitcase after him, then set my hat on my head and walked down the boat ramp. I breathed a heavy sigh, relieved, and yet somewhat saddened, at the sight of my home city. There were so many memories, both good and bad, all rolled up amongst gorgeous architecture and twisting catacombs that I couldn't help but reminisce. It was where my life changed forever the moment I heard the name Christine Daaé.

And it was where I would see her be buried.

"Welcome back to Paris, Gustave," I said, taking his hand as we overlooked the city.

When we arrived at the bottom of the ramp, though, something rather unexpected happened. There was a carriage waiting...with the Vicomte's insignia carved into the door.

"Monsieur Destler, Gustave," a footman said with a curt nod. "Monsieur le Vicomte de Chagny has requested that I deliver you to your hotel."

I hesitated to answer, but eventually nodded and handed over our luggage. "Merci, Monsieur. Give the Vicomte our...thanks."


	2. Burying an Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik and Gustave arrive in France to see Christine buried, but not without incident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edited 09-03-20

**_SEPTEMBER 1907_ **

**_ERIK_ **

The day had arrived. One that I had never wanted to see in all my days since I had met her. The day of Christine Daaé’s funeral.

An angel was to be buried that very afternoon.

I straightened the jacket of my suit in the mirror before slipping my black mask onto my face, completing my all-black ensemble. While it was not much of a stretch from my usual, the dark mask was a stark contrast to the crisp white mask that typically covered my face. For a moment, I wondered why I was trying so hard to fit the dress code - it wasn't like anyone would know I was there.

But Gustave would know. As would Christine; that I knew for sure. I made my grief public for the two most important people in my life.

I glanced out the window and raised an eyebrow when I saw yet another one of the Vicomte's carriages waiting outside. While I had been less than pleased to take any sort of assistance from a man like him, I was glad that I would not be responsible for paying for housing during our stay. That man was good for one thing, at the very least. 

"Gustave, are you ready?" The carriage is here," I said. I walked out of my bedroom, grabbing my cloak as I went, and stepped into the other room, but stopped when I found my son fiddling with his tie in front of his mirror. "Is everything alright?"

"Papa, I can't tie this," Gustave said as he turned to me for support.

"Ah. Yes, they can be quite finicky. Allow me to help." I walked over and knelt down in front of him, taking the tie in my hand. "Well, you have the initial knot tied. Well done. Now, you simply repeat what you did before - pull it through here, wrap it around, bring it up, and then - do you see this loop here?" I asked as I looked to him for a nod of confirmation. "Pull it through that little loop, and tighten it a bit. Simple as that.” With that, I got back to my feet and stood behind him, my hands on his shoulders as he straightened his tie. 

"Okay. I'm ready," he said, taking a deep breath.

"I know this is difficult for you," I said as I turned him around and tipped his head up so we locked eyes. "It's hard for me too. But, for your mother, we must be strong. I will be right there with you the whole time. You can do this; we can do this."

"Thank you, Papa. I'm ready to go,” Gustave said as he slipped his hand into mine. 

I laced my fingers with his, locking our hands together. "Come along then. We wouldn't want to be late."

* * *

After a relatively short ride, we stepped out of the carriage and began our procession to the cemetery. Neither of us had said a word since we left the hotel, though the air between us wasn't awkward; it was stiff. Almost as if neither of us wanted to be there, at that moment, with the other. Hesitancy hung heavy in the air.

It was silent for a while as we walked, but I eventually turned to him and said, "You're absolutely sure you're up to this? Because if you aren't, nobody would blame you. Least of all me."

"I can do this," he said, looking around at the graveyard. He kept a placid expression on his face for the rest of the way, almost as if not showing his emotions would make them go away. I was truly hoping he wouldn't inherit that trait from me.

We arrived at the gravesite, which was still only an open grave with a headstone, along with a few other mourners who had arrived sometime before, only for me to notice something that made my blood start to boil; her tombstone read _Christine De Chagny_ \- not Daaé. I knew for a fact that she never changed her name. On top of that, her grave was nowhere near her father's as I was told it would be by Chagny’s footman. I was enraged; Christine and I may not have ever discussed her funeral, but I knew that that was blatant disrespect of her wishes. She loved her father more than anything, and it wasn’t right to keep them apart in death. I knew exactly who was responsible for it, and he was taking a swig out of his monogrammed flask as we walked up to him inside the nearby church that the graveyard belonged to and where the wake would be held.

"You have some serious nerve, Chagny. More than I thought possible given our previous encounters," I growled.

"You're one to talk, considering I'm the one allowing you to be here and to look after the boy," Raoul replied. I could tell by his disposition that he was already drunk; clearly, the man has no respect for the living or the recently departed, even if it was his wife.

"It's not 'looking after him' if he is my son. That, my dear Vicomte, is called parenting. Not that you'd be well versed on the subject." I hated that he knew exactly how to enrage me. I could not afford to lose my temper, not in front of Gustave. "But back to the reason we're here, could you please explain why her gravestone bears your last name? And don't try to lie and say she changed it, because I know she never did. Also, would you care to tell me why her grave has been placed approximately a kilometre away from her father? If you knew her at all, you would know that she wanted to be buried close to him."

"Oh, I wasn't going to lie to you. She never changed it - I did. It would raise questions if my wife of ten years had kept her maiden name." He was so simple with his words, yet every single one cut me deep. "On the topic of her grave's placement, this is where my family lays to rest. Again, for the sake of not raising questions, I decided against having her close to her father. I know what he meant to her, but it didn't seem right. She was my wife, after all."

"You are truly more self-centred than I ever thought possible for a human being. There is no honour in denying final wishes to the dead." At that point, we were dangerously close to one another; I had to keep my hands glued to my sides to stop myself from going for his throat. "You were supposed to love her. Cherish her. Protect her and her son. That is what a father and husband are supposed to do. Yo-"

"How would you know?" he demanded. "You know nothing of socialization! When I met you, you lived in a sewer. Tricking people into thinking you were a ghost. Don't you dare talk to me about honour." He placed an accusing finger on me, right over my heart. The liquor was obviously taking effect and numbing his sense of self-preservation; otherwise, he would have thought twice before laying his finger on me. "I did love her; I risked my life for her to protect her from you. Although, it is hard to stay in love with someone who is always reminiscing about another time. Of another person. She would hum endlessly to Gustave when he was an infant; songs I knew none other than you had composed. "

"Nevertheless, she chose you," I said, my throat tight. "Even you could have seen it! She chose you in the end. You were supposed to love her, understand her, listen to her, keep her close. You were meant to treasure her, damn it! " Tears were welling up in my eyes. On their wedding day, he had vowed to care for her for the rest of their lives. Instead, he had ignored that duty, that privilege, for a bottle of scotch.

"Yes, yes. Her ultimatum. She sure did choose me," he spoke slyly as he gestured at Gustave. That was the final straw for me; I was prepared to chew him out for everything he was worth and I couldn't care less who was watching. However, his next sentence made me stop in my tracks. 

"Don't talk to me of responsibilities to her. You won our bargain. She was with you. You were supposed to protect her, and look at what a fantastic job you did."

I didn't want to let myself cry in front of him. That was the last thing I ever wanted to do. I could not show him weakness or he would surely tear me apart, but I couldn't stop it; tears were streaming down my face now, out of both anger and pain. 

"Don't you think I know that! Don't you think I blame myself for that night every second of every day! She is the only woman I have ever truly loved and I saw the light fade out of her eyes as I held her in my arms!"

He was taken aback by that, clearly not having been expecting me to show emotion. I hadn't even wanted to show them, but they had been inevitable. He obviously had nothing to counter my statement, as he decided to step away and take his place in a seat.

I turned back to Gustave to see him pale in the face. I had never meant for him to witness that, but I couldn't possibly let that damn Vicomte get away without me saying something. I knelt down to his level right away; it hadn’t seemed right to look and talk down to him in a situation such as the present one. 

"I'm sorry you had to see that. That got out of hand. I'm sorry you were brought into it. Let's go take our seats."

We walked over to our seats, which happened to be right in front of Chagny, and once we got there, Gustave let go of my hand, which he had been holding tightly as we walked, and placed something in it instead. I looked down to find his small handkerchief in my palm, then turned to see him look up at me with hope in his eyes.

"Ignore him, Papa. He means nothing," he whispered as he motioned for me to wipe my face, and it was only then that I realized that it was still wet from me crying. I dried it off and looked at him in hopes of lifting his spirits.

"Better?"

"Much better."

"Thank you, my boy," I said, shooting him a pained smile as I wrapped my arm around his shoulder for comfort as the funeral began.

* * *

The service was small with only the three of us in attendance along with the few mourners that had joined us at the grave. I was rather shocked; a talent such as hers should have been mourned by the population of the globe, not a meagre few.

When we arrived inside the room where the wake was being held, I could tell that the Vicomte had been expecting more people as well, but there was nothing to be done besides avoiding conversation with that man at all costs.

We weren't a company of three familiar faces for long, as a fourth soon arrived; someone I didn't want to see almost as much as I hadn't wanted to see Chagny.

Madame Giry. 

The nerve of people. First the outrage with him and now her? She had no right to be in attendance. She was in all black; though fitting for the situation, it was no change from her traditional attire. That aside, if she was in Paris again, Meg wouldn't be far behind... _No, no,_ I told myself outright. _Do not continue that train of thought._ I could not let myself resort to such a low standard of response. I had to be an example for Gustave; I had to put my past methods and habits behind me.

"Hello, Erik."

I was snapped out of my daze when she acknowledged me with something as simple as a 'hello'. As if she did not realize the gravity of her arrival.

Without looking at her, I responded: "Madame."

"I've come to say a final goodbye to Christine," she said as she looked in the direction of the coffin at the front of the room.

"You shouldn't be here." I had to say it. I could tell that even the Vicomte did not want her there; a common enemy, on that we could agree.

"And why is that? I have been a mother to you and Christine for years."

"Your daughter is the reason we are here, damn it! Where is she?" I was fuming now. She had no right to try and pull that kind of leverage; to use maternal instincts as an excuse to attend, and to arrive late as well. "If you're in the city she can't be far behind. She has always tagged around you like a lost puppy. Why isn't she here? She's responsible for this, is she not?"

Giry clearly hadn't been expecting me to get angry so easily. If only she had been there earlier; she would know not to be testing me at such a time. "My daughter sends her condolences to you three, though she feared for her safety if she was to accompany me."

"Rightfully so. Your daughter is a coward," I spat out at her. "Bottling up everything like that, then taking it out on someone she considered a sister."

"As if you were any better."

"Well, who was I to talk to? She had you, and she should've felt that she could go to you with her difficulties." We were standing the same way Chagny and I had stood not long ago. I would not hurt her, but at the rate we were going, there was a potential for reconsideration. "You are just as much to blame as her for this. A daughter should be able to go to her mother for anything! Not just when she's grovelling for your approval."

"I came here to say my final goodbyes to the girl I thought of as my own, that I cared for as if she were my own. I did not come here to be insulted." She was getting angry as well - I knew her well enough to know that she was. Still, she took a moment to compose herself before continuing. "I also came here to apologize to you. I know what she meant to you."

"You have no idea what she meant to me. Do what you came here to do." I couldn't bear to look at her anymore. She had no idea what my angel meant to me and could not claim to comprehend. After a deep breath, I returned to Gustave, who had taken a different seat at some point during the conversation.

"Papa, I know you won't forgive her, and you don't have to. But you should at least accept her apology. Perhaps it could be easier for you to be at peace with yourself," Gustave said quietly. He was right; of course he was right. I smiled at him, letting him know that I was okay with him telling me this. I wanted him to feel comfortable telling me things, so I could not possibly discourage him when he pointed out such things.

"Since when were you so wise?" I inquired, and the statement earned a smile from him. That sight still made my heart melt a little bit. "I will talk to her after she is done. It would be rude to interrupt her at a time like this."

Soon enough, she began walking back from the coffin, and she was almost out the door when I called out to her: "Madame."

She turned slowly, her face expressionless. "What is it, Erik? Haven't you said your piece?"

"I accept your apology," I blurted out, determined to get it out before I had a chance to change my mind.

She looked shocked. "Why the sudden change of heart?"

"Some rather wise words from someone who has quickly become a large influence on my life," I replied. I couldn't help but turn back to him, and I found that he was watching me with a smile on his face.

"I appreciate your acceptance. I truly hope that you and the boy have a good life. You deserve a little goodness, Erik,” she replied before giving me a smile, shaking my hand, and taking her leave.

“Thank you,” I heard Chagny mutter as soon as she was out the door. 

That man never ceased to confuse me.

* * *

Giry had only been gone a matter of ten minutes when the director of the funeral home came to the front of the room. She seemed worn down by her employment, with dark circles under her eyes and a tired expression on her face.

"It will soon be time for Madame Daaé to be laid to rest. If anyone has anything to say, please do so promptly," she explained. The room was silent for a few minutes before Gustave rose from my side. I grabbed his arm and gave him a look to silently ask if he was sure about the action he was going to take. He nodded resolutely, so I released his arm and he walked himself to the front of the room.

"My mother was the kindest woman I knew," he began. "She was like a queen in a book. I remember when I was younger, while she and I were home alone, a terrible thunderstorm was happening outside. I was so frightened, I went running to her room and climbed under the covers with her." He took a short breather to dry his cheeks and recompose himself, as he was so obviously getting choked up by the memory. "She joined me under the sheets and asked what I was afraid of. I told her it was because the thunder was so loud, I thought the house would fall. She brought me out from under the covers and said that the thunder was just having a conversation with the lightning and the rain, that they were old friends and they didn't get to see each other very often. How the lightning told the best jokes and the thunder had the loudest laugh. I wasn't scared of the storm anymore after that. And once after she finished her story, she sang. Her voice was the last thing I heard before I fell asleep. But the story of the thunderstorm wasn't her favourite though; her favourite one to tell was The Angel of Music."

My heart stopped. What had she told him? What would I later have to explain?

"I used to ask how she learned to sing so beautifully. She explained how when she lost her father, she was visited by the Angel of Music. How even though he turned out to be only a man, he was still one of the most important people in her life." I was tearing up, all my previous fear washed away when I heard the few details Gustave had been told; I would leave that story as just that for the time being. In due time, I knew I would owe an explanation, but for now, the Angel of Music would remain just a bedtime story for a young boy. 

“Though you never could have guessed it, Mother was the bravest person in the world,” Gustave continued. “She was always happy and smiling, and forgave everybody no matter what. And...I don't know what I'm going to do without her. Thank you."

He stepped down from the podium at the front of the room and came straight to me, and I was quick to hug him tightly. It was his turn to cry; he had been holding strong the entire time. 

"That was beautiful, Gustave. You were perfect," I whispered, hoping that those simple words to him would calm him down.

When he let go of me, I took out my handkerchief, remembering that he had already given me his. He wiped off his face, just in time for the Vicomte to tap his shoulder. Gustave whipped himself around immediately, and I could see him visibly tense up, almost out of fear. It made me wonder what had happened behind closed doors. 

"That was well done, my boy,” he said, his nickname for my son practically making my skin crawl. 

"Where were you?” Gustave asked. Though quiet, his tone made it seem like more of a demand than a request.

"What do you mean? I've been here this whole time."

"No! Where were you that night on Coney Island?" His voice was picking up volume and I could tell that that was a question that had been burning in his chest since that fateful night. "You were supposed to meet me backstage so we could watch Mother perform together. You never came. That's when Miss Giry came and took me to the pier. If you had been there, with me, none of this would've happened!"

"Don't raise your voice at me, Gusta-"

“You aren’t my father. I don't have to listen to you anymore.” 

"Alright, alright. That night...I was getting ready to board a boat back here." The man couldn't even look at Gustave's face as he said it; he simply knelt down to the boy's level, his eyes downcast. 

"Why were you on a boat?" Gustave croaked. He clearly hadn't been expecting that; of all the scenarios that he could have come up with in that wild little mind of his, that most certainly hadn't been one of them.

A long pause and a deep sigh prolonged Raoul's explanation: "I made a bet. Both you and your mother were the stakes. The deal was that if I could convince your mother not to sing, she would stay with me. If she did sing, you and she would stay in America and I would leave."

"You gambled your family...you used us as a chip in one of your stupid card games. For what?" Gustave was breathing heavily, so obviously infuriated, so I put my hand on his shoulder as a sign of reassurance but kept silent. It was his fight, not mine.

"It was to see who your mother truly loved: me or your father."

"What was there to be tested? Mother loved you so much! Even after you yelled at her in your bedroom, when the door was shut; when I would go in there after you had left and found her crying. Even when she pushed me behind her after I made a mistake. I asked her myself: why did she let you do that? She said it was because she loved you but you weren't perfect. She did all of that because she loved you! You put that kind of love up for sale. I always wondered if you cared for me, and now I know that I had a good reason to."

"It's more complicated than that,” the Vicomte replied, his voice shaking. 

"No, it really isn't! You could have fought for us and you didn't. You could have said why you hurt Mother and she probably would have forgiven you; she did that a lot. But I can't and I never will. You said you made the bet with him," he spoke as he gestured to me. "Well, fine then. Mother deserved to have someone to fight for her for a change."

Before I knew what was happening, I had reached out and was holding Gustave's wrist, his small hand curled into a tight fist. Chagny had his eyes closed ready for impact.

Gustave had meant to punch the Vicomte.

"It doesn't feel good, does it? To feel afraid of someone you cared about." His voice was cracking as he spoke, but he lowered his fist, cleared his throat, and continued: "I know what that feels like. I'm tired of it; I'm not afraid of you."

"I'm so sorry, Gustave..."

"I accept your apology, only because that is what Mother would want me to do. But I don't forgive you, and I never will. Goodbye." With that, Gustave shook himself free of my grasp and walked away. 

Chagny and I stood there in silence, neither of us daring to make eye contact with the other, but it didn't take long for him to pick up his jacket and leave, without another word.

After watching him go, I went to find Gustave. He was curled up in the corner, still shaking, staring off into space, so I crouched down to look him in the eyes.

"How are you feeling?" I was fairly sure that I knew the answer, but I didn't dare to assume. 

After breaking from whatever daze he was in, he answered: "I want to go home."

"I understand that. You can tell me what led up to that argument later on if you want to, but I won't make you." He seemed relieved that I wasn't demanding an explanation; his shoulders visibly lost tension when he realized I wasn't angry with him. 

"I just have one last thing I want to say to your mother. Why don't you go get our coats and come back? I will be ready by then,” I said, giving him a small smile. 

He gave me a quick nod and got up to go do as I had asked. Once I was sure he was out of the room, I made my way towards the coffin at the front of the room.

Nothing in a million years could have prepared me for what I saw. I could not even bear to use the word 'who', for it wasn't her; it could only be described as a mannequin compared to my Christine. Her dress was emerald green, a colour she never would have worn. She had always chosen more navy blues, as they brought out her beautiful eyes ever so well. Her gorgeous mess of dark curls was tied back, with too many pins holding it in place; I had always thought it looked best when she had it down, cascading like a waterfall.

Her face. That was the only way I knew it was still her. I could find that face in a crowd of thousands any day. Her perfectly balanced features, her bright eyes that could hide no emotion from anyone who dared to look. 

It hit me at that moment that those eyes would never open again. They would never crinkle in the corners when she laughed. Her perfect lips would never from a smile again, never utter a note of any song, never kiss my own. Never again would her dainty yet strong hand clasp onto mine or hold me close in an embrace.

"Oh, Christine. All the dark silent years were set right. How can a single night be filled with such pleasure and pain?" I wondered aloud. "You sang for me and the world seemed to make sense again. I was truly a ghost without you. I ate, I drank, I worked tirelessly, yet it all seemed pointless without you. And once I finally get you back, you are taken from me again, though this time by God." I could feel my throat getting tight as I spoke, so I took her hand in search of even some comfort and familiarity and nearly cried; it was so cold, her nails having lost nearly all colour. I held on though; her hand was the only thing keeping me attached to the world. 

"I thought I was doing the right thing by letting you go. If only I had known then. I cannot imagine what you endured by his hand. Perhaps the world doesn't want happiness for me, for me to think I'm doing the right thing. But I've never been one to follow conventional rules, have I? I swear to you that Gustave will have the life you wanted for him. I am going to try. If nothing else, I will try until I am no longer able. I love you Christine, and I will always love you."

Carefully, I took her wedding rings off her finger, and in their wake, I put a ring of my own; the same one she had returned to me. It felt only fitting that amongst all the influence from the Vicomte, she would have a part of me with her forever. With that, I kissed her hand ever so lightly, as if any pressure would shatter her like glass, and carefully placed it back into the position it was in before. 

"Goodbye, my Angel of Music."

I was about to turn and walk away, but I lingered just a moment longer. My eyes were locked on the rings by her side. Something seemed to have possessed me as I slowly took the wedding band, being ever so careful not to touch her, as if she were merely asleep and I could wake her. Once I felt my hand was at a respectable distance I placed the ring in my pocket. 

We would both have a part of each other forever, no matter what.

At that moment, Gustave returned. He was wearing his jacket and was having a bit of trouble holding my long trench coat in his small arms whilst trying to keep it off the ground. I quickly wiped a stray tear falling off my cheek and cracked a small smile as I turned to him, then took my coat out of his arms and slipped it on before reaching out my hand to him. With that, we walked out of the funeral home to the carriage, hand in hand.

"Take us to the docks," I told the driver as I followed Gustave into the carriage.

I could tell that I had caused some confusion in the boy, but he waited until we were inside and settled before asking, "Why the docks?"

"Well, I thought that Paris is filled to almost overflowing with memories for us both. I am taking us to London, where one of the many homes I had built over the years is waiting for us. It is a clean slate for both of us."

We were silent in the carriage for a few minutes, with Gustave sitting on the bench across from me, and I could feel the slight tension in the air from the earlier events of the day. As I glanced back at my son after gazing at the window for a moment, I immediately noticed that his eyes were filled with tears and he was choking back his quiet sobs. Almost instinctively, I patted the space on the bench next to me and he carefully sat up and came over to me. I needed to break the ice if there was any hope of us surviving the ride, and comforting him in one special way was my plan to do just that. 

"You handled yourself very well today, _mio soldatino_ ,” I said, his look of amazement and confusion at the nickname I had just given him putting a smile on my face.

"What does that mean?" he asked as a glimmer of wonder shone in his eyes.

"It's Italian. It means little soldier."

A brief look of disbelief was washed away with a more sombre one as he said, "Why on earth would you call me that? I’m not a soldier. I’m not brave enough.” 

"But of course you are. It takes someone truly strong to do what you did today. Not many people could do what you did. You handled yourself with pride. You don't have to be in a physical battle to be a soldier, my boy. A mental battle is just as treacherous,” I replied. 

"You really think so?" he queried.

"I know so."

A small grin spread over his face, and I was relieved to find that I had managed to cheer him up slightly. 

"Where did you learn to speak Italian?" he asked next. 

I quickly ran through my time in Italy, making sure that part of my life was appropriate to tell him; not much of it was, so I had to pick and choose carefully.

"Well, I spent a few years in Italy as an architect; that was my job before I started writing music. I worked with a man named Giovanni, and he was like a father to me while I was there. He treated me like the son he'd never had. He was the one who originally gave me that nickname. I questioned him just as you did as to why he would think to call me that. He told me 'because it takes a true soldier to have braved the constant battle that has been your life.' He made me promise that one day I would pass on the nickname to my son."

"He must have been really nice to you if you remember him like this,” Gustave said. 

"Oh, he was. I will never forget him." It didn't take much for me to recall the rest of the conversation that we'd had. I had shrugged off his comment about me having a family and him believing I would have a son. I had called his idea a fairytale, but he believed I could make it come true. He had said I would have a loving wife and children and that I would be a brilliant father. Lost in my self-doubt, I had discredited him once more, saying that nobody could ever love me, and even if I could find someone, I wanted no children; I could not curse someone else with my face. I could barely live with it myself, so how could I condemn another - my own flesh and blood - to suffer with it as well? Still, he had told me to wait and see what the future held before we had shared a tight laugh and gone back to work. Presently, a small smile crossed my face at the thought of Giovanni laughing now from beyond his grave all the way in Italy. Almost as if he were telling me, 'I told you so.'

We sat in the carriage for another couple of hours, Gustave leaning on me and my arm around his small shoulders. As I watched the sun start to set, the sky turning a variety of oranges and pinks as it did, I heard his breathing steady and could feel his shoulders rise and fall slightly against me. In my hands, I held the tickets that I hoped to use to get us across the English Channel to London - to our new life.

"No fear, _mio soldatino_ , we are going home. Just like you asked."


	3. This Parenting Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik starts to wrap his head around what it's going to be like raising a child and all of the little struggles that come with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edited 09-06-20

**_SEPTEMBER 1907_ **

**_ERIK_ **

The carriage ride had been long, and while I had known it would be, being in a comfortable living space was my one desire - not even for myself, but for the sleeping boy leaning against my body. His eyes had fluttered shut fairly soon after I bestowed his new nickname upon him and had continued to sleep for almost two hours. Even I had found myself nodding off for a few moments every now and then, which was bizarre. I had been doing that quite a lot lately - sleeping. It was an activity that I had not often partaken in. For years, my mind had been plagued with the notes of _Don Juan Triumphant,_ leaving me too awake to do anything but compose. More recently, however, Christine had been the only thing that filled my thoughts. For the past ten years, I had only dreamed of her. Although my age seemed to be catching up with me and my body demanded frequent rest, I could not make myself shut my eyes for very long. When I did, I saw her and it was like I was holding her body against mine once more, only for me to awaken and feel my loneliness flood over me when I found my arms to be empty. At that moment, however, I was so exhausted, both physically and emotionally, that the dreams were the least of my problems.

I had been resting my head against the window and trying to sleep when I felt the soft bumping of the carriage stop. I opened my eyes and looked to the driver, who had opened the door next to me and was staring up at my face.

"Is there a problem?" I inquired.

"We must stop for the night, Monsieur. We are no longer in the city, and these roads are dangerous at night. There is an inn here where we can rest before we leave in the morning."

I sighed, displeased with the truth. I had hoped to be on that night's journey to England, but deep down, I knew that a stop for the night was best for all parties, even if my tickets did go to waste. "Very well. Where are we, exactly?"

 _"Un petit ville, Monsieur,"_ the driver replied, falling back on our native French language when his English vocabulary failed him. "Saint-Martin-de-Boscherville."

And with those four words, my heart was made to stop beating.

"Boscherville?" I repeated. "Are you quite sure?"

 _"Oui, Monsieur._ It will not be too long of a ride to the pier from her in the morning."

The driver moved to collect our luggage from the back of the carriage, which left me to gather my thoughts. It had been years...

I shook my head and returned my focus to my life's new priority: "Gustave, my boy," I whispered as I gently rubbed the boy's shoulder. "We've stopped for the night, come along."

The boy's eyes slowly opened and he sat up, an exhausted groan escaping his lips. "Okay, Papa," he whispered as he rubbed his eyes.

I stepped out of the carriage and lifted him out and onto the ground, then grabbed our luggage from the driver. "The inn is just this way. Follow me."

Gustave nodded, and I felt his small hand wrap around my arm. "Papa, where are we?" he asked.

"A little village in northwest France called Saint-Martin-de-Boscherville." I took a breath as the memories that I had so long suppressed once more flooded back. "I was born here years ago."

~

The two of us walked into the inn and I told Gustave to take a seat while I spoke to the innkeeper. While the building was small, it was beautiful, as much of Boscherville was. The town was once home to many brilliant architects - my father included - so the beauty was not shocking, although improvements could always be made, as was the case with just about any building.

 _"Bonsoir, Monsieur,"_ I said as I approached the heavy-eyed innkeeper sitting at his desk. "I know it is quite late for you, but I need a room with two beds for me and my son."

The innkeeper sat straighter in his chair at that and hid a yawn behind his hand as he glanced at his record book.

"Well, Monsieur, you are in luck. We have one room with those criteria left vacant," he explained as he handed me the record book. I noticed that he failed miserably to hide his shock at seeing my mask, but kept any remarks to himself. "Record your full name and signature here, and it is yours for tonight."

Although putting my handwriting on display could hardly be counted as a favourite pastime of mine, I picked up the nearby fountain pen and scribed my signature and name: _Erik Destler._ Handwriting had never been my strength; while I could read the Bible by the time I was four years old, I struggled with writing. Now, I had mastered the skill, but it still looked like just a collection of scratches to most.

"There you are," I said as I put the pen back in its jar of ink and pulled out the money that I had on me. "How much do I owe you, Monsieur?" When no response came, I looked at the man to find his gaze locked on the record book. "Monsieur? Is everything alright?"

"Destler...You are the son of Madeleine and Charles Destler, are you not?" he stuttered. "The boy the town cannot forget. The one his mother locked in the attic. Whose face is..."

"Yes. now keep your voice down, or I will make you regret it," I growled. I glanced over my shoulder at Gustave, who was seated just across the room, still half asleep and looked as though he could doze off where he was. "My son is with me and he knows nothing of the tortures and persecution that this godforsaken place put me through. If I hear any sort of evidence - even the slightest whisper of gossip - that you have announced my presence, you will not live to utter another word. Understood?"

The man nodded immediately, so I left my payment on the desk and took the key for our room. "Gustave," I called.

As the boy joined me, I shot the innkeeper one more threatening glance. _"Bonne nuit, Monsieur,"_ I spoke, anger lacing every word, as I walked down the hall behind Gustave.

* * *

"Gustave, we have to go. The carriage will be waiting," I said as I slipped my cloak over my shoulders the next morning.

"Oh, but Papa, can't you give me a tour? I want to see more of your hometown," Gustave requested. The boy had slept soundly for a few nights in a row, and he had a new energy about him, and I was starting to become aware of just how excitable a child could be. "I'm going to be stuck in a carriage and on a boat for _hours._ I have to get all my energy out."

"Well, one thing that you did inherit from me is my argumentative tendencies. I suppose we can take a quick walk before we start travelling," I replied, laughing quietly as I opened the door and followed him out into the hallway of the inn.

"Thank you, Papa! Let me take your luggage." Gustave grabbed my suitcase from my hand, only for it to immediately hit the floor and only narrowly miss his foot. "Just...wait for me at the front! I'll be fine."

Having learned from the past couple of days, I walked to the front of the inn with him and watched him drag the suitcases to the carriage with no attempt to help him. He quickly explained the situation to the driver and ran back to my side.

"So, where should we go first?" he asked.

"The town is not all that big, Gustave," I pointed out as we started to walk down a little street just outside the hotel. "But the town hall is just down the road - that was where any sort of decisions would be made. The general store is right here, and..." As I spoke, I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw the spire of Saint-Georges-de-Boscherville Abbey protruding into the sky. "And the church."

I picked up my pace to walk towards the building and was already admiring its architecture when Gustave caught up with me.

"Beautiful," I said. "I have never actually been in here. I wasn't..." I hesitated. I was not quite ready to burden the boy with the story of my mother's cruelty, so I was quick to rethink my words. "We weren't religious in my household, but I loved listening to the organ being played."

"Well, let's go inside," Gustave said as he pushed open the door.

"Gustave, wait—" I dashed after him, fearful that there would be a church service in progress, but that fear melted away when I set my sights on the towering pillar of quartz, vaulted ceilings and stained glass windows within the church. I leaned against one of the pews and ran my hand over its wood back as Gustave slowly walked up the aisle towards the organ and altar at the front of the Abbey.

 _"Bon matin, Monsieur,"_ I heard someone - a man - say over to my left. I managed to peel my eyes away from the beauty around me to make eye contact with who seemed to be the resident priest making his way towards me. "You are an early visitor. Are you here for your morning prayers?"

"Oh, no. I...I used to live here as a boy but never got to visit the church. As an architect now, I could not help but come and admire its beauty." I extended my hand for him to shake; while not religious, my respect for the clergy had been repaired at that point in my life, even after being shunned for years by the church and told I was demon-possessed. "My name is Erik."

"A pleasure. I am Father Mansart."

My brow furrowed a bit at hearing that name. "The priest when I was a boy was Mansart as well. He trained me to sing. Are you..."

"My grandfather," he replied. "He spoke much of you and your talents, Erik Destler. A favourite pupil of his. And now you return with a boy of your own."

I managed a small smile, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that someone had spoken so highly of me.

"Yes, Gustave is his name. You know, my mother hated the fact that your grandfather encouraged my music," I said.

"Yes, he mentioned that when he talked about you. You should know that he was very upset to find out you had left. He seemed to have cared about you a great deal."

"Papa, may I...oh." I managed to break through my own shock from hearing about how fond of me the former priest had been to see Gustave as he ran over to me, but stopped when he saw the priest standing with me. "Excuse me, but Papa, may I play the organ?"

"I believe you should ask Father Mansart, _mio soldatino."_ I gestured to the priest, who Gustave looked to with a smile.

"Of course you may, Gustave. The Lord gave you a gift; you must not hold it back. Go, play," Mansart answered.

Right away, Gustave took off for the organ. He sat on the bench and laid his fingers on the keys, then started to play the melody of the duet we sang when he visited my aerie in Phantasma.

Father Mansart watched him closely, a warm smile on his face. "He is truly gifted, Erik. I now see the talent that runs in your blood."

I nodded. "Yes, I am very proud. If you'll excuse me," I said. I stepped away from the priest and out of the church, needing some air after all the talk of my past, then rounded the corner, finding myself in its graveyard. I read the countless names, none of them resonating with me until I stumbled upon two headstones that made my breath hitch in my throat.

_Madeleine Destler - Wife and mother. 1844-1871_

_Charles Destler - Husband and father. 1843-1861_

My parents. A father I had never met, and a mother that seemed to hate me. Something in me wanted to reduce the headstones to rubble for everything I had suffered, and yet...they were my parents. The ones who had given me life, as difficult as it had turned out to be. My heart was able to muster an ounce of love for them, and that moved me to kneel down and clean up their gravesites; I pulled the weeds that ran rampant and cleared the cobwebs from the letters engraved in the stone.

I found that was all I could handle; the emotions I had so long suppressed threatened to overflow, so I got to my feet and walked back into the church so as not to show my troubles to my entire village.

"Gustave, we must be going," I called. "We mustn't keep the driver waiting, and I am sure that Father Mansart is a very busy man."

The priest looked at me and smiled before he escorted Gustave back to my side. "It was a true pleasure to hear you play, young man. You have a God-given gift."

Gustave smiled and shuffled a bit closer to me. "Thank you," he said quietly, suddenly very bashful.

"I appreciate your generosity," I said as I shook Father Mansart's hand and gave him a nod.

"And I appreciate your visit. I am honoured to meet the pupil that my grandfather so often spoke of. I wish you all the best," he replied.

I gave him a firm nod and ushered Gustave out the door, back towards the carriage that would take us towards London. As we walked, I saw the little dirt road that I knew led to my childhood home, but I avoided even allowing my gaze to linger on it. The entire time, I hoped that Gustave's curiosity wouldn't get the better of him and make him ask to journey that way. That house had been my haven and my prison all rolled into one with its small rooms and cold walls. I knew that it had become a home to a happier family than mine ever was, though. The parents would sit on the front stoop as the children ran after one another, playing a game born purely of their imagination with their dog barking at their heels. A loving mother would tuck her children into bed in the bedroom I was never allowed to sleep in. They would be allowed to venture to and from the attic, using it as the play area it was meant to be. Even though the father was at work often, he would come home and was always there for his family; my father never had the chance to do any of that.

However, it was not the time for a movie inside of my mind, I reminded myself. I couldn't keep the carriage waiting forever, no matter how much extra I paid the driver. Everything that I could never have was what I hoped the family in that home had. And even that thought made my throat tight, so I trudged onwards, determined to leave Saint-Martin-de-Boscherville behind me.

* * *

"Papa, let's go exploring!" Gustave exclaimed. The two of us had finally boarded a boat that would take us to England, but he was by no means ready to sit and stay in a cabin for the journey. "I want to look around the boat!"

He wrapped his hand around mine and pulled me out of the cabin and onto the ship's deck. Him being comfortable enough to hold my hand still surprised me every time; his gentle grip and soft hands a stark contrast to my own harsh, rough ones. In more ways than one, we balanced one another out.

"Look at the water, Papa!" Gustave said excitedly as he ran over to the boat's railing and climbed up on the lowest rung, which moved me to rush over and stand beside him. "Do you think there are sharks in it?"

I smirked; the priorities of a child never failed to amuse me.

"Sharks? In the English Channel? I'm sure there may be one or two species," I replied, my eyes on the murky waters below. "Although I'm sure many types of fish live..." I looked beside me, expecting to see the look of intrigue that the boy so often wore on his face, but found myself looking down at the floorboards of the ship instead. Immediately, my heart started to pound when I looked around at my surroundings and could not find him anywhere.

"Gustave," I said under my breath as I took off at a quick pace to look for the child. The only thought that ran through my mind was the last time he went missing, and I could not bear to relive even one event from that day.

Thankfully, the boat was on the smaller side, so the places where he could have been were limited. I had made a massive circle around the deck, speeding past blissful couples and apologizing to any woman whose dress I happened to step on before I made it back to the cabin area. As I passed several doors, I suddenly stopped and retraced my steps to look through the door to our cabin. I stood there, my hands on my hips, and stared at Gustave, who was sitting on the bed with a book in hand.

"What was that?" I demanded.

Gustave looked up at me, a content smile on his face. "I saw everything that I wanted to see. The boat is quite small, after all, so I came back," he replied.

"Without so much as one word to me about this plan of yours."

The boy appeared to hesitate - a look of panic washed over his face. I know he'd done the same thing before, but I hadn't minded so much because Christine had known where to find him; it was different when I was alone.

"Oh. I didn't mean to. Please don't be too mad, Papa "

I took a deep breath, any anger quickly replaced by relief that my boy was safe.

"Please, just...let me know when you are planning on running off like that," I requested. I walked into the room and closed the door, then adjusted my suit jacket in the mirror. "I'm not mad, Gustave. I'm only a nervous new father, and I know you understand that."

"I know, but I'm sorry. This isn't the first time I've run off - I used to do that with Mother and the Vicomte as well. I need to get better at not doing that."

"It's alright. Children are naturally inquisitive, and my, are you energetic," I remarked with a soft laugh. "I best get used to running after you, I suppose."

At that, the sound of the ship's foghorn echoed through the air, and I looked at Gustave. "Pack your things back in your luggage. London awaits, my boy."

* * *

"Gustave, please try to relax. You're practically shaking the carriage with your bouncing," I remarked. The boy's sheer amount of energy exhausted me to watch, but I was unable to suppress a small smile as I watched him bounce up and down on the bench. Giddy was the only word I could possibly use to describe his attitude as we drove through London into the small town on its outskirts where we would be living. The hustle and bustle of the city held his attention easily - the foot traffic, the countless horse-drawn carriages. The vehicles had him over the moon; I recalled him patting my hand rapidly and pulling me down my carriage bench to the window to see a police car before he started to tell me how different the vehicle looked compared to those in France. Of course, it wasn't new information to me, but something about the expression of glee on his face when I expressed my interest warmed my heart.

"But I'm excited, Papa! I've never been to London before, and we are moving into a house that you built yourself! I can't help but be excited!" Gustave exclaimed, his words escaping his lips at a rapid pace. "I'm sure it will be beautiful."

"So you're unfamiliar with England, are you?"

"I know of it; mostly London. I always thought I'd like it, but we never visited. I think it was a bit too busy for Mother."

I nodded, a small smile on my face. "She did enjoy peace and quiet now and then, certainly."

The carriage came to a slow stop as we spoke, and the door was opened by the driver so I could step down onto the gravel road. "Here you are, sir. I'll get your luggage for you," he said with a nod.

"Thank you," I replied as I stepped to the side so Gustave could jump down onto the road next to me. "So? What do you think?"

His eyes were wide with a mix of amazement and curiosity as he walked up the short driveway and stared up at the cobblestone exterior of the home, its dark support beams contrasting the lightness of the stone.

"You really built this?" he asked as he glanced over his shoulder to look at me.

"Well, I designed it, yes, then hired workmen to construct. It's exactly as my drafts outlined it. I was living in America when it was built, but I drafted it so I would have a place to rest and work if I ever returned to Europe. And look how easy that has made things for you and me."

I waved him back over to the carriage to assist the driver and me in carrying our suitcases up to the small front step. I tipped our driver and waited for him to exit the driveway before pulling a small key out of the breast pocket of my coat.

"Care to do the honours?" I asked as I held the key out to him, and who smiled wide as he grabbed it and unlocked the front door, pushing it open to run inside.

The interior reveal was a surprise for both me and Gustave. I had designed it down to the smallest detail but had been clueless about its appearance until that moment, and I was thoroughly pleased with the handiwork of the men I had hired.

It had a...cozy feel, if a word were to be chosen to describe it. The home had a much larger interior than the outside would lead one to believe. The floorboards were a deep brown oak, with the furniture made of lighter cherry wood. Much of the fabric was navy blue, the walls were a light grey, and the curtains were a darker cream colour; my aim had been to bring some colour to an otherwise dark home.

The front hallway was cut down the middle with a patterned navy rug, and two archways split off of it; one to the sitting room on the left, and the other to the kitchen and dining room on the right. Further down was the bathroom and a linen closet, with the stairs to the second floor at the end of the hallway.

"Wow," Gustave said as he slipped his shoes off and walked into the home.

"Indeed," I added, strolling down the hall and gazing into the sitting room. A solid cherry wood coffee table sat atop a navy blue and white carpet, with two large armchairs and a sofa around it. A fireplace adorned the far wall, and a grand piano sat just to the right of it. I noticed the walls were empty and reminded myself that it was intentional - I had told the workers that I would paint and sketch my own pieces for the walls. Now the task was to find time for that.

I turned to my right to walk into the dining room and kitchen complex. The dinner table was a small rectangle, six chairs around it. I had considered an even smaller seating arrangement, as I had thought I would never share a meal with someone here, but my family had already grown by one by that point in time, so I failed to see the downsides to the larger table. The kitchen was more modern than most in the area with solid stone counters, a beautiful granite sink basin, and plenty of dark cabinets. I would have to get used to making multiple meals a day; even if I didn't always eat, I was responsible for making sure that Gustave did.

"You designed all of this, Papa?" Gustave queried. "It's beautiful."

"That I did," I said as I leaned up against the dining table. "Why don't you take your suitcase up to your room? It wasn't designed with a child in mind, but we can certainly fix that."

The boy's eyes suddenly lit up. "My room!" he exclaimed as he picked up his luggage and shuffled further down the hall, then up the flight of stairs. I laughed quietly and followed him upstairs, my curiosity about my study and master bedroom growing with my suggestion to him.

The door to my study was right at the top of the stairs, so I pushed it open and was greeted with deep red walls, the left of which was entirely covered by packed bookshelves. The wall directly in front of me had a large cherry wood desk against it, perfect for both composing and drafting architectural sketches. A keyboard was tucked in the corner of the room, and framed maps covered the wall space to the right of the door.

"This will be perfect," I said to myself. I already had a plan in place with regards to a steady income to support my new family. My pocket money would no longer do with a child to support, so I had resolved to open an architectural firm once more. When I had first arrived in Paris after my time in Persia, that had been my source of income - I drew the plans, simply signing them _Erik_ , then commissioned construction workers to build it. It paid more than enough for me as a single man, so it would do well to support both myself and Gustave.

I stepped out of the study and walked past Gustave's room, catching him unpacking his suitcase and trying to organize things in his room. He seemed excited; he had certainly inherited his mother's optimism.

I walked through the open door next to his room, finding myself in my master bedroom. The bed was a queen size - much larger than I would ever need, and had its headboard against the left wall, sharing a wall with Gustave's bed. The walls were a pale blue, matching my son's. An armoire and desk shared one wall, bookshelves lined another, a keyboard sat in the far corner, and the door to my ensuite was on the far right wall. All of it matched my sketches perfectly...except for the mirror next to my desk. I sighed when I saw it and considered throwing a blanket over it. I had instructed that no mirror be included, but I suppose the workers could not fathom that. Not that I blamed them; any other human would want a mirror. However, none of my experiences with mirrors seemed to end well. The one that stuck out to me the most was when my mother showed me my face for the first time as a child and I smashed the mirror with my little fists. I found myself rubbing my wrists as the memory ran through my mind, knowing the scars lay just beneath my shirt sleeves.

"Papa!" The voice of my son thankfully snapped me out of my thoughts, and I turned around to see Gustave standing in my doorway. "I love my room. We can decorate it, right?"

"Of course," I said. "Now, why don't I get you some money and you can run into town to get us something to eat?"

That seemed to baffle the boy, for his brows creased into a frown. "Into town? You mean...by myself?" he asked.

"Well, of course. Is there something wrong?"

"No, just..the Vicomte hardly let me go anywhere alone," he replied, his eyes dropping to his shoes in embarrassment.

I rolled my eyes. Of course he hadn't let the boy have any sort of independent spirit. That explained his tendency to run off; he was starving for sovereignty.

"I believe it is important for you to start cultivating independence as a young man. I'll go grab you some money - you choose what we eat tonight. Choose wisely," I told him as I ruffled his hair on my way out of the room.

~

"Well, I think we have found a cafe that we can most certainly revisit," I said as I finished the sandwich that Gustave had returned home with. I stood up from my seat at the dining table and ruffled the boy's hair before collecting the paper that the food had come wrapped in.

"There weren't that many stores that I saw that were open, and even then I had no idea where to go," Gustave admitted as he got up out of his chair and leaned against the table, looking at me now. "I wasn't sure what you liked, so I tried to keep it simple."

I smiled. Acute attention to detail; certainly my son.

"It was perfect, so you needn't worry. Perhaps next time, I can go to a different restaurant and attempt to figure out what you would like. We can make a game of it."

"And what happens if one of us picks something the other doesn't like?" Gustave had a smug smile on his face, almost as if he was eager for there to be a consequence for a loss.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," I replied, a chuckle escaping me when I saw the boy's visible disappointment. "Why don't you get into your pyjamas while I clean up? I'll be up shortly."

"Alright," he said as he turned to leave, only to stop and look back at me. "Are you sure you don't want any help?"

"It's only a few wrappers. I think I'll be alright."

Gustave nodded and took off down the hall, leaving me to toss the waste into the small bin in a cupboard beneath the sink. I washed the cups we had used, then switched off the electric lights and walked to the front door and locked it. Though odd to do so, as no one in the world ever seemed to fear thieves or kidnappers, I had always been nervous about being found or captured. And with a child to protect, I knew that the doors would never be unlocked while we slept.

I moved around the first floor, turning off lights and drawing the curtains, and I soon noticed that the sound of soft footprints padding around upstairs that I had been hearing had suddenly stopped, so I made my way up the stairs to check on Gustave. I came to his bedroom and leaned on the doorframe as I looked at where he sat on the edge of his bed, clearly awaiting my arrival.

"So shall I just say goodnight from here and be on my way? I am quite tired, you know," I stated as I crossed my arms. However, my teasing had clearly gone over his head, as he simply stared back at me with an expression of confusion painted on his face. "Oh, I'm only joking." I couldn't help but laugh as I walked over to him when I saw the widest smile imaginable spread across his face.

"So you've changed," I remarked as I glanced at the light blue pyjama set that he had changed into. "Have you brushed your teeth? Washed your face?" Gustave gave me a firm nod and I returned the gesture.

"Good. See? There's the independent spirit that I'm looking for. Doing things without being asked," I said as I gave his hair another quick ruffle.

And then we fell into silence. We simply looked at one another, analyzing every facial feature as we searched for something to say. Eventually, though, I found my voice: "Well, I cannot tuck you in if you're just sitting here. Lay down, for goodness' sake."

He giggled, and I immediately knew what he had been up to; in order to toy with me, he had turned the entire concept of doing things without being asked onto its head and had seemed quite content to just sit and wait as well! I simply rolled my eyes as I sat on the edge of the bed to wait for Gustave to find a comfortable position on his mattress. "Sleep well," I said as I tucked the bedsheets and duvet around him before I leaned over him and gave him a kiss on the forehead. "My room is just next door if you ever need anything. You could even knock on the wall and I'll hear it." I tapped my knuckles lightly on the wall to demonstrate. "Good night, Gustave."

"I love you, Papa," I heard him say as I walked to the door.

I stopped and turned back to him, a warm smile on my face illustrating the warmth in my heart. "I love you too, Gustave," I replied as I switched the light off, then walked out into the hallway and towards my study.

I strolled into the room and turned one of the two lamps on, filling the room with a warm yellow light, then made my way to the small liquor cabinet and pulled out a glass and a bottle of whiskey to pour myself a drink As I sipped it, I walked to the window that overlooked the large yard on our property...

And then everything hit me as if I had just been punched in the stomach.

I had just tucked my son into bed in our family home. I was responsible for that child that day, the next, and every day until I died. The realization of being a father had occurred to me once or twice in the past few days, but it seemed heftier now that we had moved into our own home, officially making me the head of the family.

It was then that I realized that I was far outside of my area of expertise. I was skilled in music, art, and architecture, but raising a child was an ability that everyone had the capacity to learn, but not all could master. I, for one, seemed like the last man on Earth who would be able to get a grasp on parenthood, never mind single parenthood. What examples had I had over the course of my life? My mother was so absent and cold it was as if she did not exist at all, my father had died before we had even met, and Giovanni tried in Italy, only to betray me for his headstrong, childish daughter, Luciana...a girl I found myself unable to forget.

The two positive role models that I could think of were Marie Perrault, an old friend of my mother's who had more maternal instinct than my mother could ever dream of, and Nadir, the Daroga of Persia and my good, dare I say, best friend. With only two examples of good parenting, neither of which I had spent a lengthy period of time with, my references were slim. Christine had known what to do, and it was then that I realized all over again just how much I still needed her.

I put the glass down on the windowsill, my hand shaking, then wrapped my arms around myself. At that moment, her words were the only ones that came to mind, so it was those words that I sang in a quiet plea: "Wishing you were somehow here again. Wishing you were somehow near. Sometimes it seemed if I just dreamed, somehow you would be here."

I inhaled a deep, shaky breath and lifted my glass to my lips, then downed the drink, hardly feeling it burn as it slipped down my throat. I knew that I had to sleep; I could feel my legs starting to ache and a headache beginning to build at the base of my skull. If I were to keep up with the seemingly increasing store of energy that my son had built up within him, sleep would become a necessity.

With that knowledge in mind, I walked from my study to my bedroom. I kicked off my dress shoes, slipped off my mask, and fell onto the bed, too tired to even bother with my sleepwear.

* * *

"Papa!"

The outcry from my son jolted me from my slumber, and I barely had time to grab my mask and slip it over my face before he was at my side.

"What's wrong, Gustave?" I asked, my voice gravelly with sleep.

"Papa, please...I'm scared! Th-there's a storm a-and I had a nightmare! I heard th-the gunshot and Mother screaming!" he managed to say, his words deteriorating into sobs as he wrapped his arms tightly around me.

"Alright, you're okay," I said. My heart was still pounding from the fright he'd given me, but just holding him close seemed to be enough to slow it down. "Let's go back to your room, okay? I'll sit with you and tell you a quick story. Come along."

I gently lifted him off of me and peeled off the covers that I had managed to crawl beneath during the night. I escorted the boy back to his room and waited for him to get into bed before I sat next to him, my back against the headboard.

"Now, a story," I said as I took Gustave's hand and rubbed the back of it with my thumb as I searched my memory for a tale to tell. "Well, I go back to Sasha, my dog, once more. My first word was Sasha, as a matter of fact."

"Really?" Gustave asked with a sniffle. "Mine was Mama, I think."

"Yes, that is the first word for many. I soon learned Mama as well, but Sasha came first," I replied. "Come to think of it, I crawled and spoke for the first time that day. I was six months old, or so I was told by a friend of my mother. It was a night like this. Sasha had walked into my room and knocked over my cradle. My mother arrived quickly and called the dog to her side, but I crawled...well, half-shuffled, half-crawled over to her." I smiled when I heard Gustave's little laugh. No doubt the simple mental image of me as an infant crawling across the floor of my so-called nursery was enough to generate amusement.

"I then sat up and patted her nose, simply saying 'Sasha' over and over, seemingly quite content with my little accomplishment. I mean, Sasha knocked me over and I bumped my head on the floor, but otherwise, it was a successful evening."

Another quiet laugh escaped Gustave, so I smiled, pleased with the fact that I had seemingly helped him through his fear, and got up off of the bed.

"Now, don't you seem to be feeling a bit better. Try and get some sleep, alright? I'm just next door." I gave his forehead a kiss and walked back towards my room, hoping that he would fall back to sleep relatively quickly.

I covered my mouth as I yawned while I climbed into bed, only to lock eyes with Gustave, who had appeared once more in my doorway. Tears were fresh in his eyes, and I could tell that he had no plans to sleep alone tonight. I sighed, only to jump when a loud thunderclap rattled through the house. I heard Gustave squeak, and I was quick to pat the empty space to my right on the bed. His words from the funeral about hiding under the covers with Christine during storms rang through my head, and I knew I couldn't deny him that feeling of security.

"It's alright, Gustave," I said as he cuddled close to me and pulled the sheets up to his chin. "Remember, it's only the thunder and lightning laughing and telling jokes. Nothing to fear."

I bent over and gave him a kiss on the forehead before I laid down and tried to settle in to get back to sleep. My mask stayed on my face; although I knew it would irritate me while I slept, the boy was frightened enough. He didn't need to get back to sleep and wake up with a fright.

As I started to fall asleep myself, though, I felt the mask shift on my face and opened my eyes to see Gustave slowly pulling his hand away.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I was just going to take your mask off because you forgot. It doesn't seem comfortable to sleep with," he said sheepishly.

"No, just...just leave it alone, please," I requested.

"But why, Papa? You should be comfortable when you're sleeping."

"Gustave..." I sighed and rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling. "I don't want to frighten you, that's all. I never want to do that."

The child was silent, but his next actions spoke volumes; he sat up and reached over, then slipped my mask off of my face without any hesitation. "I'm not afraid, Papa. Please don't worry."

With that, he dropped the mask on my bedside table, gave me a hug, and laid his head on his pillow, quickly nodding off.

And at that moment, my son's love for me was confirmed - and mine for him.

* * *

We had been in our new house for a few days, and both Gustave and I had started to settle in. I was preparing to start my contracting business and had submitted the necessary paperwork, which had included forging a birth certificate to confirm my citizenship. My mother had never passed my original one on to me, but I got the proper documents and managed to forge both her and my father's signatures. No one would know the difference, what with my forgery skills and both of them having passed away already. Whatever had to be done to support my family would be done.

On top of that, I was getting things organized to begin homeschooling Gustave. I planned to keep him out of public school for a time so he could properly mourn his mother and get used to the new home and country. Not to mention the news reporters would be quick to swarm the son of the murdered soprano and bombard him with questions. I wanted everything to settle down before I sent him off to school.

One morning, I was making breakfast for the two of us, as I wanted both me and Gustave to be fed and awake for our first day of homeschooling. As I moved from the stove to the cupboard to grab two plates, I noticed him walk into the kitchen out of the corner of my eye. He was still in his pyjamas, I observed. A tad out of the ordinary for him, but I thought nothing of it at first.

"Good morning, Gustave. Did you sleep well?" I asked.

"Yes, Papa," he answered. The roughness of his voice made me turn to him immediately, and it took me no time at all to realize that something was wrong. His face was pale, his cheeks missing their usual light pink hue. His shoulders were hunched forward, and his voice made it sound as if he had been screaming all night.

"Gustave, cough for me please," I requested.

His brow furrowed. "What? But why?" he asked.

"Just do it," I insisted. Gustave still looked confused, but he followed through with my request, and the noise that came with the cough was enough to make me wince. It was such a deep, rough sound that almost sounded like the bark of a dog.

"No, you are going right back to bed." I turned him around and led him back down the main hall, then up the stairs to his room.

"But Papa, what about breakfast?" Gustave asked, only for his speech to send him into a coughing fit.

"I will bring it to you in bed. Now stop talking or you'll only make your cough worse if that's possible."

I walked Gustave into his room and got him into bed, then grabbed an extra pillow to prop him up. I bent over him and pressed my lips to his forehead, then pulled away with a scowl on my face. "You're running a fever as well. I'm going to get your breakfast before I head down to the store to fetch things to get you better," I said with a nod.

"Why not call a doctor?"

"This is a simple cold, my boy. As a teenager, I learned much of herbal remedies and could deal with an illness of this nature or worse all on my own. When I get home, I'll give you something to help your cough and throat, as well as your fever. We'll postpone the lessons until you're well again. Now, sit tight. I won't be but a moment."

I tried to keep my word to not take too long, but the pharmaceutical shop was not quite as organized as I would have liked. Even still, I made it home with my supplies and set to work. Within no time, I had brewed an elderflower tea to help him sweat out the fever, along with some warm lemon juice and honey to clear his congestion.

"Alright, Gustave. Here you are," I said. I put the mug down on his bedside table, then helped him with the honey-lemon mix. "I tried to make it sweet for you, but no medication tastes phenomenal, I'm afraid."

The honey and lemon went down easily, though the same could not be said for the tea. The grimace Gustave made with the first sip was enough to force me to stifle a laugh.

"I don't like it, Papa," he said.

"I know, _mio soldatino_. Nobody really does, but it is going to help with your fever faster than trying to break it all on your own. Just...plug your nose and drink as much of it as you can. I'll be in my study, so call me if you need anything," I instructed.

I walked out of the room and sat at my desk, pulling out a drafting sheet to start work on a house design that had been in my head for a few days now. As I worked, the phone rang and I answered it to hear the voice of the official that I had been in touch with recently about my business.

"Yes, this is Erik Destler," I said into the receiver. "Yes, sir, I have been waiting for your call. We are ready to proceed, I take it?"

Our conversation did not last long, however, as I soon heard a quiet call from Gustave's room: "Papa, come here."

I sighed but knew I couldn't leave the child on his own. "Sir, I am terribly sorry, but my son is quite ill and needs my attention. Can I return your call at a later time? Thank you. Have a good evening," I said as I hung up the receiver, then bounced up out of my chair and walked to Gustave's room, where I found him with all of his sheets cast to the side.

"Papa, I'm hot," he said, practically whining.

"I understand, but that means the tea is working. It's meant to help you sweat out the fever," I said. I hated to see him uncomfortable, but I reminded myself that he would only end up feeling better sooner. "Why don't you unbutton your shirt a bit? I'll run a cool bath for you shortly to help you, but the tea has to keep working. I'm sorry."

"Okay. Thank you, Papa," Gustave said as he took a deep breath, which was only followed by coughing.

"Of course. Try and rest, Gustave. I'll bring you dinner when it's ready."

~

The rest of the evening had been relatively quiet, besides Gustave stopping me every time I walked in the room to give him a hug, check his fever, or something along those lines. Not that I had anything against giving him a hug; it made me happy to do it every time.

Late that night, I was settling Gustave into bed when he made a request: "Papa, will you read me a book?"

I looked at him and was quiet for the moment, processing the question that had never been asked of me before.

"Yes, of course," I finally said as I walked to the nearby bookshelf. "Which book shall we read? I see _King Arthur, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Peter Rabbit..."_

 _"Wizard of Oz,_ please."

I nodded and grabbed the book, then returned to Gustave's bedside and sat on the bed next to him. _"Oz_ it is."

The book was relatively simple, particularly considering my tastes were typically much more complicated and classical, but Gustave was enjoying himself, which was the priority. Eventually, though, I began to realize exactly what it was that I was getting myself into.

"Hold on. The tornado lifted the entire house and took her away to a magical land called Oz, where she conveniently killed a witch. Now how does that make any sense whatsoever? It's physically impossible!" I exclaimed.

Gustave, who was leaning up against my shoulder, seemed to have no time for my confusion. "Keep reading, Papa," he said as he reached over and turned the page for me.

"You truly want me to keep going?"

"Please? Mother started it when we were in Paris. I would like to know how it ends."

I took a deep breath. I knew that once Christine had entered the equation, the request could not be denied. If he caught on that I could never deny him anything, I would be in trouble. "Alright, well, let's get through it then. Where did she leave off?"

"Go from the beginning. I wouldn't want you to be confused, Papa," Gustave said.

"Oh, I'm already confused, my boy. The house flew and killed a witch," I replied with a laugh.

"It's a fantasy. Fantastical things are bound to happen."

"Fantastical?" I repeated with a smirk. "I am impressed by your word choice. Let's continue our fantastical story, then, shall we?"

"Good. It's really fun," Gustave said, a smile on his face.

The evening seemed to speed by, what with my commentary about how ridiculous the concept of a lion with no courage was, followed by Gustave laughing and trying to justify it. Eventually, the end of the book arrived, and I was less than pleased with it: "They melted her? You're telling me that she was so evil that simply dousing her with water melted her? As if this book couldn't get more ridiculous. Gustave, can you-" I paused when I looked down at him and found fast asleep, still leaning up against me. I smiled warmly and slowly got to my feet before I lowered him down onto the bed.

"Good night, my fantastical little boy."

* * *

One thing that I took away from being a father is that when your child falls ill, you too, inevitably, fall ill.

A couple of days after Gustave had fallen ill and he seemed to be recovering quickly while I had been dealing with a scratchy throat over the same period of time. One morning, however, everything took a turn for the worse.

I opened my eyes and rolled onto my back, only to groan when an ache ran through my entire body. "What..." I said, but the deep pitch and roughness of my voice caught me off guard. I sighed before I followed my own advice: I coughed and winced as the roughness of the action only made the pain in my throat more substantial.

"Fantastic," I mumbled before I reached my arm up and knocked on the wall behind me, which successfully got Gustave's attention as I had hoped. The boy appeared in my doorway with a smile, a new spring in his step compared to the last few days.

"Papa?" he said as he cast me a very concerned glance. "You don't look very good."

"I don't feel very good either," I replied as I slowly sat up in bed. "I believe you passed your cold on to me."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Papa. I can go get your breakfast!" Gustave's face lit up at the prospect of doing me even the small favour of bringing breakfast up. "Just wait here, I'll go get it ready."

"Gustave, hold on," I said as I got to my feet, only for the room to start spinning, which made me stumble back onto the bed. "Just...don't do anything too complicated, alright?"

"Yes, Papa! I'll just make some toast and tea. Stay in bed." With that, he ran down the stairs and left me to lay on the bed to let the room come into focus again.

As I lay there, I heard a crash from downstairs followed by a squeal from Gustave. I frowned as I slowly sat up and got to my feet, then slipped my mask on and stumbled down the stairs.

"Gustave, what is going on in here?" I asked as I walked into the kitchen. Right away, I lifted my foot off the floor, which I had quickly discovered was wet with water.

"I dropped the kettle, but I'll clean it up!" Gustave cried. He dried my foot and dropped the towel onto the water, then laid his little hands on my chest and tried to push me backwards. "I can take care of it, I promise!"

"Alright, alright. I'll be upstairs. Just be careful," I cautioned, laughing as Gustave continued to push me down the hall towards the stairwell.

"I will, I will! Go get in bed and wait!" And then, he was gone, having run back to the kitchen while I made my way back to bed.

I hadn't been waiting long in my room when I heard a gentle knock on my door. "Are you in bed? Under the covers?" I heard Gustave ask.

"Yes," I replied with a quiet laugh, only to wince at the burning in my throat. As I sipped the water that I had poured for myself, my door swung open and Gustave walked in with a tray in his hands.

"Toast and tea. Just like I promised," he said. He slowly walked to my bedside and placed the tray on my lap, being almost overly cautious to not spill anything. "Try it! I want to be sure you like it."

I followed through with his request, tasting both before I shot him a smile.

"You did very well, Gustave. Thank you," I replied.

The boy looked so proud of his accomplishment, and the smile on his face proved it. Even still, he was onto the next topic within seconds. "Oh, Papa! I've been practising my sight reading with _Ode to Joy._ Can I show you?"

I simply gestured to the keyboard across the room, not wanting to damage my voice more than I already had. Gustave ran out of the room momentarily but soon returned with a sheet of music in hand, then sat at the keyboard and began to play the composition that any good musician could recognize. Although it had been overly simple for me for years now, it was the perfect pairing of complexity and ease for Gustave to play.

When he finished the piece, he immediately looked at me for some sort of response, so I held the piece of toast between my teeth and applauded.

"Bravo, bravo. Bravissimo," I said, my voice muffled by the bread in my mouth.

"Thank you, Papa," Gustave said as he walked over and gave me a quick hug. "I want to be as good as you one day."

"I'm sure you'll be even better, _mio soldatino."_

Our embrace was shortly interrupted when the telephone in my study rang and Gustave ran out of the room to pick it up.

"Hello? Yes, hang on," I heard him say a few seconds before he reappeared in my doorway. "Papa, it's someone who wants to talk to you about house designs."

"Oh, let me-" I tried to say, but my voice came out as no more than a whisper before it sent me into a coughing fit.

That incident alone seemed to be enough for Gustave, as he ran back to the study and I heard him start talking to the client once more: "My Papa isn't feeling very well today, but I can write down your message and have him call you back."

I smiled to myself as I listened to their short chat, and he ran in a few moments later with a slip of paper in hand.

"That was Mister Thomas. He says he has a few houses for you to design for him," he reported.

"You are an architect in the making, Gustave," I said with a smile.

"You really think so, Papa?" he asked as a grin formed on his face.

"I know so, my boy."

* * *

"I really like this book, Papa. I wish I'd read it sooner," Gustave said, his excitement audible in his voice. He had decided to reciprocate my favour of reading to him when he was ill, so he had picked up the copy of _Oliver Twist_ on my bookshelf and started to read it.

I simply hummed in response as I fought to stay awake until he had finished reading. Even still, I was beginning to consider kindly asking him to stop so I could sleep; my eyes were already closed and I was resting my head on his shoulder, already having nodded off once or twice.

 _"'In which case it is somewhat more than probable that these memoirs would never have appeared; or if they had, that being comprised within a couple of pages, they would have possessed the ines...inestim'_...hmm."*

I opened his eyes and glanced in his direction, finding him frowning down at the book, clearly puzzled by a word.

"Let me see," I said. He turned the book towards me and pointed out the word in question. "Ah. Inestimable. I understand how that could be difficult."

"Inestimable?" Gustave repeated with an uncertain glance in my direction.

"Very good," I replied as I stuck a bookmark in the book and closed it. "I'm sorry, Gustave, but I am rather exhausted. We can keep reading tomorrow."

Gustave nodded, tucking me in before he got to his feet. "That's okay, Papa. You should sleep," he said as he gave my forehead a kiss. "No fever! Good thing, too; You won't have to drink any of that disgusting tea." A proud smile appeared on his face then. "Hey, I'm not too bad at this parenting thing! I could do this with my own little girl!"

"So you want a daughter?" I asked quietly with a small smile on my face.

"I mean, a boy would be nice too, but I would like a girl more for some reason," he replied with an eager nod.

"Well, I'm sure you'll be a lovely father one day," I said. "And at least one of us seems to know what we're doing, right?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Directly quoted from 'Oliver Twist' by Charles Dickens


	4. Old Friends and Even Older Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik runs into an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a long one. settle in, folks :)
> 
> updated 09-13-20

**_SEPTEMBER 1909_ **

**_ERIK_ **

Two unbelievably quick years had gone by and my life was unparalleled to the one I had led before. My architectural firm was fully up and running and providing the necessary income for me and my boy. His homeschooling was a learning process for both of us, as I was not used to teaching and he was not used to the material. However, a new change was coming that both of us seemed to dread.

His first day of school.

He practically begged me not to go, asking if I could continue homeschooling him. Of course, parental authority had won me that argument. He required a proper education and to socialize and make friends with children his age would do wonders for him. Though part of me wanted to keep him home with me, I knew that his attendance was in his best interest.

The day arrived, but it didn't seem to register with either of us. I rolled over in bed and glanced at the small clock on my bedside table, only for my eyes to go wide as I realized how late I had woken up. "Damn!" I exclaimed as I practically leapt out of bed and knocked hard on the wall that I shared with Gustave, knowing it would wake him up. 

"Gustave, get up! I overslept, which means you overslept, which means you're going to be late for school!" I yelled as I pulled on my shirtsleeves and trousers. I had never been more glad that I stuck to black suits than I was at that moment, as no thought was required to coordinate colours. I slipped on my waistcoat and jacket, then rushed out of my bedroom, but as I passed Gustave's room, I doubled back when I found him still in bed. "What are you doing? You'll be late, Gustave! Get out of bed."

I was given the reply of a groan, so I formulated a small plan in my head. I walked into the room, grabbed the end of his sheets and yanked the covers off of him.

"No, Papa, please. I don't want to go," he mumbled. He didn't even bother opening his eyes; he just clawed at the sheets and tried to pull them back up to his chin.

"I know you don't, but I am fresh out of sympathy for you." A wicked smirk formed across my face as I put the finishing touches on my plan. I grabbed him by the ankle and said, "If you don't get up on your own, I'm going to have to drag you to school."

"You wouldn't."

"Would you care to find out?" I asked before I gave him a hard tug that pulled him off the bed to the point where only his top half remained on the mattress. The action warranted a small shriek from him that was quickly followed by laughter. 

"Let go, let go! That tickles!" he exclaimed in between laughs as he thrashed his foot back and forth in an effort to break free from my grasp. "I'm awake, I promise!"

"Good. Now get ready while I go prepare breakfast."

"Yes, Papa."

Satisfied with my accomplishment for the morning, I made my way downstairs to get breakfast ready. It was almost done when I heard Gustave trot down the stairs and into the kitchen. I turned around and was, in all honesty, quite shocked. His clothes were proper - he looked like quite the young gentleman - but his hair looked like he hadn't even touched it.

"What is that?" I stuttered, no other words presenting themselves to me.

"What do you mean?" Gustave asked, frowning slightly. 

"Your hair! Did you even brush it?"

"Oh, I thought I'd try a new style. Do you like it?" He kept looking to the left of me as he spoke, and I was quick to recognize the nervous gesture that completely gave away that he wasn't telling the truth.

"Please go fix it," I instructed. "Because I will not have my son leave my home with his hair looking like that."

"But I don't want to go back to the bathroom,” he replied. 

"And why is that?"

"I saw a hmph-hmp-huph-humph..." I frowned when he spoke. I could not make out his last few words as he both mumbled and lowered his volume.

"Come again? You saw what, exactly?" I asked. “You know how I feel about the mumbling, Gustave.” 

"I saw a spider in there!" he blurted out.

"And what would you like me to do about that?" I asked as I crossed my arms. "I will not play guessing games with you, Gustave. You are old enough to communicate your wants and needs verbally to me."

"Could you please kill it?" he requested with his eyes glued to his shoes.

"Ah, there we go!" I said, my tone almost ridiculously over-exaggerated. "A request! Now that I can work with. Come now, show me where you saw it last and I'll deal with it for you so we can both move on with our morning."

I walked to the washroom to find the little problem and Gustave followed me in, hiding behind me the entire time. "It's on the wall by the mirror," he said as he pointed to a practically invisible spot on the wall.

"Oh Gustave, it's minuscule," I replied. "He's more afraid of you than you are of him! And you know that spiders can only do good, right? They eat all the other sorts of insects that you don't want around."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I want them in the house! They can do that outside!" he exclaimed

I gave him a nod; that, I couldn’t exactly deny. "Fair point. I will take care of it. Go eat your breakfast."

The boy sped off, clearly eager to leave the room where the arachnid in question resided. I turned back to the creature and resolved that I could not end its little life. I recalled that in my darkest days, I would compare myself to the likes of the spider; a creature deemed ugly and frightening by society. Even with that point, I used them as a small source of encouragement for myself; if even the spider was entitled to a mate, so was I. If I was to be one of the only people in the world to view spiders in a positive light, then so be it.

I rested my hand on the wall and let the spider walk onto it before I cupped my hands together and walked to the back porch to set the little creature free. I caught sight of what I assumed was the very same spider's web glinting in the sunlight. Gustave wouldn't be pleased to see the evidence of it living near the house, but as far as he knew, the animal was dead, which made my life much easier.

"Gustave, the spider is gone," I announced as I walked back into the dining room, only to find it deserted with an empty plate abandoned on the table. I looked into the front hall and found the boy slipping his shoes on, clearly having planned to slip out the door with the mess of hair still on his head. "Gustave Daaé, do not move!"

He did indeed freeze where he was, only turning his head to look at me as a small smirk appeared on his face. With that, he made an attempt to run past me, but I managed to grab him and pull him towards me, his back against my chest.

"Papa, no!" he exclaimed through his giggles. "I like my hair how it is!"

"And I refuse to let you out in public like that!" I replied, my voice broken up my own laughter. I smoothed out his hair as best I could, running my fingers through it in an attempt to tame it. "That will do for now. Off you go."

I opened the front door and ushered him out before I stepped onto the porch with him. "Now, have fun. Pay attention in class. Try and talk to the other children. I know you'll be nervous, but it will be nice for you to have a few little friends."

"Papa, I've been to school before, you know."

"Yes, I know, I just-oh, just go." I gave him a light, playful shove, but he stayed in place and gave me a quick hug with his arms around my waist.

"Bye, Papa," he said before he skipped down the stairs and started his walk into town. He seemed to have a new skip in his step after our playful morning; I could only hope that attitude would remain for the rest of the day.

I watched him go until he rounded a corner and I could see him no more, and only then did I make my way back into the house. When I did, though, I was greeted by a sound that had become mostly unfamiliar to me over the past two years.

Silence.

Since becoming a father, my house was hardly ever quiet. Gustave was constantly chatting with me while I worked on teaching him piano, or I was composing or mentoring him with his singing skills. My business also kept the house noisy as well, what with me taking phone calls or Gustave answering the phone first and running back and forth with messages for me.

The silence I suddenly found myself surrounded by, however, was almost uncomfortable, which was a bizarre thought. Silence had been one of the few constant factors in my life; whether I had been in the attic of my childhood home, the basement of Giovanni's home in Italy, my private quarters in the Persian palace, or the catacombs of the Opera House, it was always quiet. I had relished in it, only to loathe it all of a sudden. 

I shook the discomfort away and moved up to my study to try and get some work done. Architectural commissions had been piling up on my desk recently as business began to pick up speed, but with my homeschooling of Gustave, I hadn't been able to draw up many sketches for my customers, so I sat myself down at my desk and pulled out the top file before I set myself to work.

However, the silence proved to be more of an obstacle than I had initially thought, as I seemed unable to move my pencil across the paper. So, to solve my little silence problem, I walked across the room to my newly acquired phonograph and set a record on it, and a smile appeared on my face when my Angel's voice filled the room.

I remembered the day well when I stumbled across the record that Christine had recorded well. I had been out to pick something out at the local market when I stumbled across it; I had passed the small record shop in town and froze when I saw Christine's face on one of the record sleeves. Quickly, I had walked inside and asked if more discs of hers had been recorded. Though I was disheartened to hear that it was the only one, I purchased the record and a phonograph on the spot, my original goal for the morning totally forgotten. When I returned home, I had set it to play and found myself unable to withhold my tears when I heard her sing once more. The words of the song that I had once sung in my aerie in Phantasma that had been inspired by my desperation and loneliness had rung through my mind, and I longed to have her singing live in front of me, but I took what I was given. I heard her recorded performance of _Think of Me_ , the aria from Act 3 of Chalumeau's _Hannibal;_ the song that had launched her opera career. The night that eventually ended in our first meeting.

In the moment, though, tears no longer sprung to my eyes. Instead, I mouthed the words to the famous aria as I sat back down at my desk to work. Only at that point in my life did I take the words to heart: _Think of me fondly when we say goodbye. Remember me once in a while, please promise me you'll try. There will never be a day when I won't think of you._ All so true, almost too real.

My Angel's voice had long been my inspiration, and I would always have her voice and my muse with me, never to be lost again.

* * *

The hours flew by with the help of Christine's voice, and by the time I had replayed the disc for the third time, the home design I had been working on was almost entirely complete. I was putting the final touches on my design for the roof when I heard the front door slam shut; Gustave was home from school and my peaceful silence was no more. Not that I minded, although it was a pity to lose my calm, quiet workplace. I set down my pencil and moved the phonograph's needle off of the record before I made my way downstairs to greet the boy. As I approached the entrance to the sitting room, though, I was confused to see two small pairs of shoes by the front door rather than only one.

"Gustave, what—" I began as I walked into the sitting room, but I froze when I found Gustave sitting on the floor with his notebook...and a child I had never seen before sitting by his side. "Oh. Hello there."

"Hello, Gustave's dad," the boy said. I noticed his voice was high pitched, much like Gustave's. "I'm William. Cool mask!"

I was agog...aghast, almost. The child was intrigued by the mask instead of afraid? Typically children saw a tall man with a strange white mask and were a tad frightened, and yet there were intrigue and curiosity in the eyes of this boy. Much like Gustave when we first met. 

"Th-Thank you," I finally managed to say. "Does your mother know that you're here?" The last thing I needed was to be responsible for a second child in addition to my own.

"Yes, she does! She won't be long," William replied.

"I see." I gave the boy a curt nod before I looked at my son, whose eyes were wide when he noticed that I was less than impressed. "Gustave, can I speak with you in the hall, please?"

Without hesitation, Gustave got to his feet and smiled at William before he followed me into the front hall. "Yes, Papa?" he asked. 

"Would you care to provide me with an explanation as to who William is and what your plan is for the afternoon?" I prompted, my voice quiet so our guest couldn't hear us. I may not have been pleased about his sudden arrival, but I still didn't want him to feel like a problem.

"He's a friend from school," Gustave explained. "I got nervous in class today and introduced myself in French by accident. The teacher was looking at me funny...I was so embarrassed."

Even with my irritation and confusion, my heart ached to see my boy so uncomfortable. I took note of his nervous habit of falling back on his mother tongue under stress; we would work through that in time, but that was a discussion for a later moment. I needed to deal with the second child in my house first. 

"But later, I was alone on the playground and William came over," he continued. "He said a few words to me in French before we started to talk. We're just going to do our English reading together before he leaves."

"And you did not think to ask if that was alright with me when you got home? Instead, you let me come downstairs and stumble across another child that I am now responsible for?" I asked. 

Gustave’s gaze dropped to the floor as he shuffled his feet. He almost never got in trouble with me and it was clear that he was nervous about it happening. 

"I'm sorry, Papa. I just don't really have any friends here just yet, and William was so nice to me."

At that moment, I paused and took a moment to reflect on the difficult life that Gustave had been forced to cope with. A stand-in father that never treated him right, then finding out that man was not his father, only to have his mother ripped from him. Who was I to deny him a friend on top of all of that? I had sent him to school for an education and to make friends, after all; it would be hypocritical of me to make him send William home. 

"Alright, it's fine. Just try not to spring surprise visits on me again. I do not mind you having your friends over, and I am very glad that William was so kind to you. I just would like to know first,” I said. 

"Okay, Papa. Thank you," Gustave said with a joyful smile on his face.

"Of course. Now go do your homework. I'll get some snacks for the two of you,” I replied as I pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

Gustave gave me a quick hug around my waist before he sped off, which left me to step into the kitchen to work on a quick plate of finger foods for the two boys. The snack of choice ended up being cheese and crackers, which I set in front of the pair, who were hardly working rather than working hard.

"Finish your work, you two. You don't need unfinished homework on your second school day, Gustave," I said as I turned to leave.

"We will! Thank you, Papa!" Gustave replied.

I gave him a wave as I walked out of the room, glad that the boys seemed to be getting along. At least Gustave had taken after his mother and had not inherited my struggles to socialize with others.

"Gustave, why does your father wear a mask?" I heard William ask. I froze in the hallway, my heart already beating faster. The discretion of a child was weak; how much would Gustave know to keep private?

"He has a...condition. He wears it because he's more comfortable with it on. He doesn't like to talk about it. Don't worry about it, okay?" Gustave replied.

A pause. 

"Okay," William quickly answered.

I released a breath that I hadn't realized I had been holding in. My boy was smart, and I was glad for that at the moment. I poked my head back in the room and looked at Gustave. He gave me a wink, almost as if to say, "Your secret is safe. No need to fret."

I believed him with everything I had in me.

~

The boys had seemingly only just finished their schoolwork when there was a knock at the door. William immediately got to his feet and came running into the front foyer with his things to start putting on his shoes. 

"That's probably Mother here to get me," he said before he ran back to the other room, probably to clean up whatever the boys had gotten into playing.

All the colour drained from my face. His mother was coming and I would have to answer the door. I had been aware that it would have to happen, but it hadn't set in until that moment. I cautiously walked to the door, praying for it to be anyone else but her - the postman even! But as usual, my prayers were ignored as I opened the door to find a cheery, red-haired woman on the other side. She had worn a smile at first but that was quickly exchanged with a look of confusion. I was used to that, as it was a reaction that I received from many upon first meeting them. The mask seemed to have that effect on people.

"Hello. I'm Madeleine Edwards, William's mother,” she said as she forced a smile back onto her face as she extended her hand for me to shake. With my body reacting on its own, I shook her hand and led her into the front hall. As soon as she said it, as soon as she introduced herself to me, it all rushed back. Her face; while beautiful, I could only associate it with the suffering. I heard her screaming at me, telling me she wished I'd never been born. I felt the glass embed itself in my arms just as when I smashed the mirror after she let me see my face. The scars on my arms burned once more. 

I could only see my mother. 

After twenty-one years of being apart, we had been reunited only by her passing, even if I hadn’t seen her body or burial. The pain I felt over her death that I had suppressed for so long rushed back like a tidal wave, but I couldn't show that. I had to be cordial, show my guest out. I couldn't let people in so fast. Gustave didn't even know about my mother and our relationship, so how could I tell the woman in front of me who happened to share her name? No, it was neither the time nor the place. It was time to brush it all under the rug and cope later, as I always had. 

"I am Erik, Gustave's father. The boys are just cleaning up in the sitting room,” I said, forcing a small smile of my own. 

"Oh, that's alright. As long as he wasn't too much trouble for you," Madeleine replied.

"No trouble at all. They had only just finished their homework when you knocked." I must have been possessed by some form of creature since I felt the need to add to my statement: "Madeleine was my mother's name."

"Oh. How nice," she replied. With that, an awkward tension fell on us both until the blissful moment when the boys came out of the sitting room and into the front foyer. 

"I'll see you out, then,” I said, clapping my hands together. 

"Yes, of course. Thank you.” 

The four of us walked out onto the front porch, and while the boys said their goodbyes and discussed what they would do during recess at school the next day, I took that moment to speak to Madeleine once more: "Your son was just fine. I appreciate him being so kind. Gustave was very nervous about going to school."

She once again plastered a cheery smile on her face as she replied, "Thank you for having him. Next time maybe Gustave can come to our home."

"Only if you're open to it. I don't want to throw my child on you," I said, desperate to break the ice. It seemed to have worked, as the smile on her face seemed more relaxed.

"I'm sure he's no trouble at all. On top of that, I'm quite certain that my husband wouldn't mind having a second boy around the house to rough house with. Besides, he seems like a fine young man. You and your wife are very lucky."

I thanked God for my mask at that moment, as it helped me hide the twinge of sadness I felt. I had to think my response through very carefully; I simply didn't have it in me to go through the story about Christine again, nor did I know Madeleine well enough to feel comfortable telling it. 

Gustave had clearly overheard her question, though, as he came over to me and took my hand while I forced a smile and made my reply: "Yes. We truly are."

* * *

_**OCTOBER 1909** _

A few whirlwind weeks had passed and Gustave was fully situated at school. With the help of William, he was able to recover socially from the incident with his introduction. The boys had truly developed a good friendship within days. It reminded me somewhat of my friendship with Nadir, my old companion from my days in Persia and the Opera House.

My train of thought was interrupted as I was walking up to the line at the grocery store to pay for my things when my shoulder brushed up against someone else's. Normally I wouldn't have thought anything of it, as the place was busy and it wasn't uncommon for something like that to happen. But when the two of us glanced back to apologize, I had to look twice to see if my eyes were deceiving me. _No, no, it can’t be. Is it?_ I thought as I made a full turn and the other man did the same, only for me to nearly drop my basket out of shock.

"I thought you were in Paris...?" I managed to say as Nadir walked closer to me.

"Paris?" he laughed, evidently just as surprised as me. "Never mind Paris, I thought you were dead!"

It wasn’t the first time he’d prematurely mourned my loss. "That's fair,” I replied as I smirked at him and shrugged my shoulders. I knew I could get away with being so nonchalant with him, primarily because it would annoy him.

A smile stretched across his face. "You'd think I would have learned my lesson."

"You never were the quick study, my friend."

"Just as sarcastic as ever, I see," Nadir said before he pulled me into a hug. I was still in shock that it was actually happening. It couldn't possibly be real, and yet, there he was in front of me. 

"What took you out of Paris, Daroga?" I asked, reviving his old title from our days in Persia.

"Well, after you burned the Opera Populaire to the ground and made the world believe you dead, my options were slim. I knew I could not go back to Persia or the shah would have my head. So naturally, a quick trip across the Channel seemed to be the only option. After all, it's the only home you haven't made a mockery of me in," he replied with a sly grin, clearly thinking he had gotten in a jab at me.

"Oh, mockery is a strong word, Nadir. Is that truly all you got out of our years of companionship?"

"Well that, along with a stiff back, being charged with multiple felonies and some migraines." 

We laughed together. It felt good to laugh with him again. We always used to have the most pleasant conversations in the catacombs of the Opera, and I held the title of being one of the few people who could make him laugh. He was the only one out of my few associates who seemed to have lasted. 

"What about you Erik? What brings you to England?" Nadir inquired

"That is a long story,” I began, not really wanting to go into the details in the middle of the store. "I had to get out of America. That's where I went after the Opera incident. I already had a house here, so, here I am."

"America, you say? Well, whatever made you leave? A country such as that with all its...charm?"

"I'll explain in-depth another time. It's a long story, Nadir." An immediate idea came to mind. If he really wanted to know, then that could be arranged. "Why don't we pay for these groceries and we head back to my home to catch up and eat something? Unless, of course, you had something else planned for tonight," I silently hoped he did have something planned. I recalled from our time in Paris how lonely he was; he would meet me at the river beneath the Opera and insist he had places to be so that I wouldn't take my time, but I knew, in reality, it was quite the opposite. He never got over the deaths of his wife and son, so I quietly hoped he had found another group of companions here in England. Perhaps even a partner or spouse to be with that night.

"Unfortunately, I do not. I'd very much enjoy hearing that long story, though," Nadir replied. My heart sank a little for him; clearly, we had both learned to be lonely long ago. "I'm sure this story of yours will be much more entertaining than my original plans."

And with that, we were off, back to my home with an old friend and some even older stories to tell.

* * *

The two of us had talked all the way home, and once we got there, I ended up going back and forth between the kitchen and the sitting room to talk while I worked on dinner. A tedious way of carrying a conversation, true, but we had managed conversations in much more difficult scenarios.

"Dinner shouldn't be long, Nadir," I said as I walked back into the sitting room. When I did, though, I caught him shoving something into the breast pocket of his jacket. "What was that?"

My friend hesitated for a moment, almost as if he were contemplating whether or not to tell me what was on his mind. "A beautiful memory," he eventually replied.

I raised my eyebrow. "Very cryptic; that's usually my area of expertise, my friend, but it does not help me to understand. Would you mind elaborating?" I requested. 

"Fine. But if you attempt to convince anyone that you saw this, I will deny it."

"A risk I am willing to take."

With a small sigh, Nadir dipped his hand into his breast pocket and pulled out the little trinket. Only when he placed it in my hand did I realize that it was a locket with a photograph of a woman inside. Her skin was on the darker side, much like Nadir's. Her black hair flowed like waves and draped over her shoulders, and she was adorned with jewelry and makeup, though it wasn't needed; her beauty spoke volumes.

"Nadir, is this...is this her?" I asked as I held the small locket carefully in my palm. "Is this your wife?"

"Yes, it's Rookheya. Who else would it be?" Nadir asked, a twinge of frustration in his voice at the simplicity of my question.

"So that was her name, was it?" I smirked, pleased with the discovery that I hadn't made even during our time together in the Persian royal court. "Why would you not want to keep her around your home? I never saw one photo of her in Persia."

"After she died..." Nadir's voice broke off, his never-ending grief so obviously threatening to spill over. "I didn't want to share her with anyone else. Not even in her death could I bear to let her beauty draw the attention of another man. It was nothing against you, I just...I wanted to keep my heart close to me."

I stayed quiet, unable to formulate a response. I could sympathize with Nadir more than he knew, but I couldn't tell if that was right to tell him...would it only make it worse? Was I right to-

"You don't need to hurt yourself thinking of a reply. It's been years. It's just a memento," Nadir said quietly as he stood up out of his armchair and took the locket from me.

"But it's so clearly something more than that, and I'm glad that I found out about Rookheya - you no longer have to deal with your grief alone," I said.

Nadir managed a small smile. "Thank you, old friend."

"Why don't you come sit at the dining table while I finish dinner? Enough of this running from room to room," I said as I gave him a light pat on the shoulder.

"It is quite ridiculous, isn't it?" Nadir remarked as he followed me into the dining room and sat down while I opened a cabinet to grab the dishes for dinner. "Not to change the subject, but did you hear about the American theme park that burned down this morning? Phantasma, I believe it was called."

When he said that, I seemed to lower the dishes I was holding in slow motion onto the counter and then froze in place. Phantasma...was gone? Ten years of sweat and toil to construct my empire and it was gone just like that. Honestly, I gave Gangle **one** job and he managed to mess it up.

"Oh, yes. I had heard of that while I was living in New York. It was on...Coney Island, was it not?" I asked as I moved the plates over to the table, trying my hardest to seem oblivious.

"What did you do?" I glanced at Nadir, who was shooting me a suspicious glare. "That's the face you make when you're trying too hard to hide something."

"What?" I scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous, I didn't do anything."

He squinted his eyes at me. "Now I know there's something for sure. I can tell when you're lying, Erik. You had some sort of connection with it, didn't you?"

"I hate that you can tell,” I muttered as stared down at my shoes, suddenly sheepish after lying to him. "Guess who's Mister Y?"

"Of bloody course you are!" Nadir exclaimed. "Honestly, this is why I can't leave you alone to do anything! You either become an opera ghost or a business mogul, apparently."

"I was quite successful for a time. You have to give me that, at the very least," I pointed out.

"And I will. I just question why I didn't realize that there is only one masked man who is a true master of almost anything he sets his mind to," Nadir said. "If I had known, I might have visited. Go on a roller coaster or two."

I chuckled. "Sure you would have. It's _ridiculous_ to think that you would have tried to escape my problematic self for as long as physically possible,” I said, my voice laced with sarcasm. “And you? On a roller coaster? When did you develop such a sense of humour, Daroga?"

"Around the time that you developed a sense of propriety," Nadir said as he looked around my house. "Honestly, look at this place. You're actually taking care of yourself! It seems a lot can change in ten years, Erik. I mean, for all we know, you have a child and I've killed a man."

I let a laugh slip and ran my hand through my hair. If only he knew…

"You? You are the most straight-line person I ever met in my life. I find it very hard to believe that you, of all people, are capable of murder. Almost as hard to believe as me having a child," I said, wincing at my weak attempt at a lie.

Nadir looked me dead in the eyes. "I have certainly contemplated killing you once or twice," he mumbled as he sipped his drink. "It isn't that hard to believe."

I smirked. "You've thought about killing me? Ridiculous."

"You have no idea how many times I have. I could wring your neck right now, as a matter of fact." Nadir got up from his chair and looked up at me, only making our height difference more apparent.

"If you were going to kill me, you would have done it in Paris ten years ago. And although I don't know if you can reach my neck, I'm sure you're capable of killing me somehow. But I believe a dedicated duck is just as capable. You aren't special, Daroga."

Nadir rolled his eyes and walked back to his seat. "Why am I still your friend?" he wondered aloud.

I shrugged and smiled at him. "You're the one that keeps coming back."

* * *

Nadir and I ended up so lost in conversation that I failed to notice the door opening when Gustave got home from his afternoon at William's house. One could only imagine the shock on his face when he came home to find me, not only in conversation with a person besides him, but laughing on top of that. I had never told him about Nadir so he was utterly clueless, which was why I forgave his slightly hurtful remark.

"Papa has friends?" he blurted out. I played it off and donned a semi-fake hurt expression on my face. Nadir obviously could not keep his composure, as his reaction was to burst out laughing. 

Upon seeing my facial expression, Gustave looked like he regretted his comment immediately. "I'm sorry, Papa, that wasn't very nice. Hello, sir. My name is Gustave Destler,” he said as he stepped closer to the table. 

I was dumbfounded and needless to say, Nadir was as well. Though I had a feeling that his shock was due to the mere appearance of the boy, mine was at the way Gustave had introduced himself. He had used my last name. For a while after he came to London with me, he would use his mother's last name and I had come to accept that her surname was the one he preferred. It made no difference to me, in all honesty, but to hear him introduce himself to someone else as a Destler filled me with more pride than I thought it would.

I snapped back to reality just in time to notice Nadir's expression change as he registered who Gustave was. He turned his head to face me so fast that I couldn't help but laugh. 

"Did you hurt your neck making that turn?" I inquired.

"Now wait a minute," he finally managed to say. He was probably thinking back to earlier when I had said it was preposterous for me to have a child.

I clapped my hands together to break some of the tension. "Who's ready for some dinner now that we are all together?" 

I needed to get out of the situation and fast, so I took off for the kitchen to start serving the food, desperate to escape Nadir's quickfire questions.

~

After dinner, we were all sitting in the living room chatting. Nadir was still in a slight state of shock to see Gustave sitting on the couch next to me.

"So how do you and Papa know each other, Nadir?" Gustave asked. He had obviously been stewing on the question for a while since neither of us had thought to explain our history to him.

"Well, that is a long story," Nadir answered.

I couldn't help but laugh at him; not only for his comment but thinking that it would satisfy the boy. 

"That's almost an understatement,” I said. 

"I'll have to agree." He laughed with me and nodded his head before he, thankfully, continued to elaborate before Gustave could ask again: "But we met in Persia, Gustave. I was the Daroga, which is like the police chief for the shah, or king, of Persia. Your father was a magician in Russia at the time, but the shah sent me to bring him to the palace."

"Wow! Papa was a magician?" Gustave asked as he looked at me, his eyes wide with wonder.

"And not a half-bad one at that," I remarked with slight confidence in my voice. Yet Gustave still looked to Nadir for confirmation of this, only to receive a hard eye roll in response.

"Anyhow, I found your father working as a magician and told him that the shah wished to bring him to Persia to perform. He hesitated but eventually agreed on one condition: that we walk instead of taking a boat. It still irritates me to this day." Nadir explained, rubbing his knee. "It's also why I have joint problems now."

"We took a boat to get from America to Paris without a problem. What happened back then, Papa?" Gustave turned back to me once more, only with confusion plastered quite plainly on his face.

"Let's just say that people were much more open back then with their distaste for those who were different," I explained with a sigh. "I didn't want to risk anything happening."

"We soon arrived in Persia and it didn't take long for your father to win the approval of both the shah and his entire court. Dare I say most of the kingdom as well,” Nadir continued. 

"You must have been incredible. I'd love to see it," Gustave said, his eyes once again filled with amazement.

Nadir and I shared a knowing glance with one another. Something that we had been reluctant to disclose to him is that most of the tricks involved death. But I couldn't deny him insight into that part of my life now that we were having this conversation. I scanned my memory and recalled some simple carnival tricks that I could show him without issue. 

"Maybe I'll pull out my old sleight of hand tricks for you someday,” I eventually replied. 

The smile that spread across his face made it all worth it.

"Well, if you've known each other so long, you must have some stories to tell," Gustave said. "What adventures did you have?"

"Too many," Nadir replied as he sipped the tea he had made himself. "I have spent too much time with your father."

"No such thing." I waved his comment off with a smirk. "But we have plenty of stories, Gustave. For instance, I got a sapphire ring from the shah's mother not long after I arrived at the palace. My magic impressed her, which is why she urged her son to bring me to Persia, I suppose. However, what really got me the ring was when she told me to take off my mask. What compelled me to obey her is still beyond me, but she was clearly pleased. That gained me the little ring I gave to your mother." I found myself subconsciously touching my left little finger where the ring once sat. I still wasn't used to feeling bare skin there instead of the metal of the ring's band, but I was glad to know that it rested with Christine.

"That ring must have been worth a fortune," Gustave pointed out.

"Oh, indeed," Nadir said with a nod for confirmation. "That woman was intrigued by two things: the expensive and the bizarre. That ring was certainly the former."

"While I was definitely the latter. But I wore that ring up until I gave it to your mother. It only fit on my little ring, but I made do," I added.

"What did Mother say when you gave it to her?" The boy looked at me expectantly, with no knowledge of my past with Christine. I thought back to when I first gave her the ring in my failed 'proposal' while the two of us performed _Don Juan Triumphant_. I couldn't tell him the true story; he thought he knew the story of the Angel of Music and I wasn't ready to tell him the truth quite yet.

"She certainly hesitated at first, but in the end...she was glad to have it," I eventually said, satisfied with the answer I had ended up giving him, and the content smile on his face at hearing a variation of how his parents met warmed my heart.

"Speaking of jewelry," Nadir piped up. "Your father stole the diamond collar of the shah's Siamese cat. Oh, and on top of that he stole the cat as well!" He looked at me and faked a smile, clearly pleased with revealing one of my mistakes.

Gustave frowned at me. "Why would you steal someone else's cat, Papa?" he asked me. "Especially the king's cat."

"Well, for one, the cat liked me better, but the main reason was that Nadir's son, Reza, actually asked me to take the animal for him," I explained. I glanced at Nadir in expectation of a quick rebuttal to what could have been interpreted as an excuse, but instead, I saw his mood darken quickly. I cursed myself when I realized I had mentioned his dear son and started to scramble to recover and change the subject. 

"Anyhow, the shah was not happy with me because of it, but even with his disappointment, he allowed me to build a brand new palace for him."

Once more the child's eyes filled with wonder, almost as if a sky full of stars was within them. "You built a palace for the shah, Papa?! I knew you could build beautiful buildings, but I never imagined something of that size."

"That I did. It was the biggest thing I have ever designed and constructed to this day, but it was brilliant. It was filled with golden thrones, murals, treasure rooms...and secret passages." I raised my eyebrow to attempt to add even the smallest implication of mystery to my phrase.

The gesture clearly worked as Gustave appeared very intrigued. "Secret passages? Really?" he repeated.

"Indeed. The shah demanded it of me and I built them for him. But besides those, there are passages that only I know of."

"That's like something out of a novel, Papa! I can't believe you got to build all of that."

I smiled and looked over at Nadir, only for my smile to drop when I saw the confusion on his face. 

"What? I haven't done anything,” I said. 

"How many of these secret passages only known to you did you build?" Nadir asked slowly.

"Enough," I replied cautiously. "I wasn't doing anything of concern in them, so you can relax."

The accusing gaze from him continued for some time, and eventually, Gustave started to laugh at the two of us. "You two are so funny together,” he said through his laughs. 

Nadir gave me one final narrow glare before looking back to Gustave. "Funny to you, absolutely obnoxious to one another," he said. "But as mysterious as his construction efforts may have been, the shah was thrilled. On top of that, the khanum, who was sort of like a queen, showered your father in gifts, although I'm not surprised. She was in love with him, after all." 

Gustave gasped a little and I turned my head quickly, my brows creased. "Did you hurt your neck making that turn?" Nadir asked in a mockingly deep voice, his poor attempt at imitating my comment from earlier in the evening.

"What on earth are you going on about, Nadir?" I asked.

"You're toying with me, aren't you, Erik?" Nadir asked. "She was obsessed with you, for goodness' sake!"

"A queen loved you, Papa?!" Gustave exclaimed.

"No, no," I replied quickly. "I honestly have no idea what you're on about, Daroga. She was interested in my magic, certainly not me. The two of us had a strictly professional relationship."

Nadir scoffed, seemingly not hearing one word of the arguments I was trying my hardest to make. 

"Oh, poor oblivious Erik. You do realize that all of your magic shows for her were alone in her private quarters...right?"

I closed my mouth, silencing my next rebuttal to consider the statement as the frightening possibility of that being true arose. "So that's why she was always insistent on asking why I was keeping my outer robes and shoes on..." As the words left my mouth, I remembered that my child was a member of my audience, so I was quick to stop talking and reach forward to cover his ears. "Can we change the subject, please?"

"No Papa, let him finish!" Gustave insisted as he pulled my hands away. "You don't tell me about your adventures. So she was really in love with him, Nadir? Was she very pretty, Papa?" His gaze bounced between the two of us, clearly expecting answers to both questions.

"Well, I-I don't know! I just..." I trailed off and sank down in my chair as I felt my face start to heat up. "I don't want to discuss this."

"Leave your father to his embarrassment, Gustave," Nadir said, although I knew he was quite amused by how awkward the conversation had made me. "The khanum was beautiful to many, and she was definitely interested in your father, but for me, my heart always has and always will belong to my-"

"So maybe she did like me!" I piped up, cutting Nadir off mid-sentence in my desperate attempt to veer the conversation away from my so-called 'romantic endeavours'. "But quite a few people didn't, including the shah's advisor."

"Oh, that man hated you with every bone in his body," Nadir said in agreement. "I've yet to see such loathing since then."

"He hated me so much that he poisoned me at his wedding."

That was the phrase that turned Gustave's head. "You were poisoned, Papa?!" he exclaimed, a twinge of worry amidst his baffled expression.

I nodded. "I was, but thankfully, Nadir took me in and nursed me back to health. Although there were moments where I feared for my life, I pulled through somehow,” I replied. 

"How sick were you, Papa? It must have been serious if you couldn't take care of yourself."

"I was very, very ill, Gustave," I said as I rubbed his back to reassure him and calm his obvious worry. "In fact, I was unconscious for a time. However, a quiet little request from Nadir's son to fix his music box seemed to do the trick, as I woke not long after."

Gustave nodded, but still looked confused. "But why would you be allowed to be poisoned if the shah liked you so much? Did he allow it?" he asked.

"I don't believe the shah was fully aware," Nadir replied.

"No, I don't think he knew of his advisor's plans," I confirmed. "Even still, that man had angered me with some of his actions. So, when I was asked to perform at his wedding, I used that spotlight to my advantage. I had designed an automaton skeleton, which I made to rise out of a coffin, point at the advisor, and collapse at his feet. I essentially condemned him to death right there and then."

"That's awful, but...is that why he poisoned you? Because you made fun of him at his wedding?" Gustave asked, clearly realizing how bizarre that motivation was.

"Essentially. He was less than pleased with me. Although, I think it might be partly because I took attention away from him with both my performance and my mask. I'll show you, hang on." I got to my feet, walked down the hall and up the stairs to retrieve the mask in question from my bedroom.

As I dug it out of a box in my closet and looked closely at it for the first time in just over thirty years, I began to question the fashion choices I had made as a younger man. I had remained somewhat...flamboyant, one could say, but the mask was by far the most over the top piece of clothing I had owned to date. The mask was glittering, solid gold and weighed quite a bit in my hands. How I put up with it the entirety of the wedding night was beyond me even to that day.

As the story of that night played in my mind, I slipped my day-to-day white mask off of my face and switched it out for the golden one before looking in my mirror to examine my reflection. As I gazed at the glittering version of myself looking back at me, I seemed to recall that night more vividly than I had before: the thundering applause of the wedding crowd, only for my focus to stay on the advisor's burning glare; the khanum offering me wine and trying to drag me out to dance with her, only for me to start feeling a fierce burning in my chest a few moments later. The next few hours of cold sweats, spells and dizziness, and bleeding were all a blur before I found myself shuddering at the memory of the poison-induced nightmares I suffered; the death of my childhood admirer, Luciana, and my desperate plea to Nadir to protect my childhood dog and friend, Sasha, from her attackers. Then it faded to black; my coma.

 _Why did I keep this?_ I wondered as I switched my masks again. _All it does is remind me of the hell that I've-_

"Erik, did you jump out the window? You can't escape these conversations that easily!" I heard Nadir call from downstairs. "You can't leave your son waiting forever!"

"Alright, I'm coming! I didn't jump out the window, you idiot," I replied as I hurried down the stairs and into the sitting room. "Sorry, got lost in my own thoughts." I sat back down in my chair and handed the gold mask to Gustave. "I made an impression, to say the least."

"This looks like it cost you so much," Gustave said as he turned the mask over in his hands and examined its intricate details.

"Yes, well, I had a healthy salary from the shah for my performances, but it was indeed expensive. Even still, it was worth every cent to see the look on his face when I walked in," I replied.

Gustave lifted the mask and slipped the wire over his head in an attempt to try and wear it, only for it to slip right down and hang around his neck. "You wore this? It's so heavy!"

I smirked. "Well, for one, the mask is too big for you and you just don't have the structure in your face for it yet. But it was heavy, yes, although, again, the reaction made it all worth it. You'll find I can be quite stubborn."

Nadir laughed. "Don't get me started on that," he said.

We fell quiet for a moment as Gustave handed me back the mask, but I noticed the boy frown and straighten up a bit as he seemed to come to a realization. 

"Nadir, are Reza and his mother waiting for you? I don't mean to sound rude, but maybe you should go home and see them. They might be awfully worried that you aren't home yet; I know I get nervous if I'm home alone without my father for too long. Maybe we can all get together so Reza and I can play while you all talk,” he suggested, giving my friend a smile. 

My heart felt like it sank down to the floor when I heard Gustave's proposal, and I saw Nadir's eyes darken at the mention of Reza. It was a painful subject for us both, and although I had gotten very close to the child during my time in Persia, it obviously hurt Nadir more so; I couldn't even imagine the anguish he felt. I knew Gustave didn't mean to hurt him, but I also couldn't help but picture how fun that would. be. Something told me that Nadir loved the mental picture just as much as I did. Thinking of the two boys playing and spending time together while myself, Nadir, and his wife talked on the side was a heartwarming thought. It truly would have been something out of a fantasy.

How could he have known, though? He had barely known Nadir for two hours, so it was impossible for him to have any grasp on the story of my friend's life. There was no way Gustave could have been aware that Reza was born almost fourty years ago. How could he have known that Rookheya had been dead long before Nadir and I met? That I had been the one to lay Reza's small body in Nadir's arms? He was blissfully oblivious, but now it was time to break the news to him.

"No, they aren't at home, and I'm afraid that little get-together idea of yours won't be possible, Gustave," Nadir croaked.

"But why not?" Gustave asked. "They're your family...why wouldn't we all be able to meet?"

"We can't because...because..." Nadir's voice cracked as he tried desperately to contain the sobs and outcries that I knew could escape at any moment. He looked down at his lap as tears pooled in his eyes, a few starting to roll down his cheeks as his defences crumbled by the second.

"Gustave, you must understand something," I said as I stood and walked to Nadir's side then offered him my handkerchief and rested my hand on his shoulder with a reassuring squeeze. "Nadir's wife, Rookheya, and Reza have both...passed away. Rookheya died before Nadir and I even met, and Reza passed on a few years after we got to know each other, but this happened many, many years before your birth. Reza was very, very ill."

I could see the confusion painted on the child's face as he looked back at me. "But you're like a doctor, Papa. Didn't you help him?" he inquired. 

"Of course I did. I tried my very best, my boy, but it was beyond even me. Other doctors did not know what ailed him, for he lost his sight and his muscles were failing. He's in a better place now, _mio soldatino._ He's not in pain anymore,” I explained. 

"Wow. I hadn't realized you two have known each other for so long," Gustave said quietly.

I smirked. "Believe it or not, I was only nineteen when we met. It's been a while."

Gustave glanced from me to Nadir and I saw the sympathy in his eyes. The child was all too familiar with that sort of pain. The next thing he did, though, made me the proudest I have ever been of him. 

Totally of his own accord, Gustave got to his feet, walked over to Nadir, and wrapped his arms around my friend in a tight hug. 

"He sounds amazing. I'm sorry if I made you sad," he whispered.

The pair sat in a silent embrace, Nadir trying to withhold his tears as best as he could. When they finally pulled apart, my friend gave Gustave a weary smile. 

"Don't be sorry. You were only curious. Reza was the best thing that ever happened to me; he was smart and he had plenty of questions. Just like you," he said, his smile growing when he saw Gustave give him a toothy grin.

I gave Nadir's shoulder a pat before I sat next to him on the sofa for added support while Gustave sat on the floor and leaned up against my leg. "After everything happened with my poisoning and with Reza, I was summoned back to the palace, and shortly, orders were given for my arrest. The shah feared I was a liar and a thief who planned to overthrow him. I was quite powerful in the country after all," I related, trying to change the subject to something slightly more lighthearted.

"Had you really thought about overthrowing him, Papa?" Gustave asked. "That would have made you the shah of Persia."

"I certainly thought about it once or twice."

Nadir managed a laugh, which got a small smile on my face as I realized my efforts to cheer him up were working. 

"I believe you, Erik," he said as he tucked the handkerchief into his jacket pocket. "Although the concept of a kingdom with you as its ruler frightens me more than I thought it would."

"A bit too much power for me," I admitted. "Even I can confirm that."

"I think Papa would be a good king. I could be his prince!" Gustave excitedly said before his eyes sparkled with a new thought. "I would have the best crown."

I smiled and gave his hair a quick ruffle. "A crown for the history books, indeed," I replied. Perhaps the child had inherited more than my worries and musical calling; he seemed to have my extravagant fashion sense buried within him as well.

"But finish the story, Papa! What happened after the shah ordered your arrest?" Gustave asked.

"Oh, the story, of course. Well, poor Nadir was tasked with arresting me the moment he got back from his mourning period," I said.

"And I did arrest him, but I found that I couldn't take him to the shah, for some bizarre reason," Nadir added, a baffled expression on his face as a joke. "I suppose I had grown attached to him at some point during the four years we resided together. So I let him go in the desert and told him to leave Persia. I cut his bonds and sent him off with the bag of jewels that he'd collected throughout his time in the kingdom. I took his mask and cloak and hid them in the desert, which led the shah to believe he was dead. Just like that, he was gone. And, you know, as far as I can recall, your Papa cried when he left."

"I did not. It was windy and sand was getting in my eyes. Don't feed my son lies, Nadir," I said as the three of us started to laugh together. It felt good to smile and joke with my old friend by my side again. It seemed I had missed it more than I thought I had.

~

We went on that way, talking and sharing stories for a long while. Nadir was fascinated by Gustave and I could tell the feeling was mutual. It surprised me to see him so curious about my past. There had been the occasional question here and there, but never so detailed. I couldn't help but wonder what kept him from asking. It was no time to dwell on the past, though, for he was asking questions at the moment. 

Shortly though, Nadir decided he has some questions for us, and I should have seen where that was going.

"Alright then, what have you been up to since arriving in London? Surely you haven't been cooped up inside this house the whole time,” he said. 

Before I could even say anything, Gustave blurted out what I believed to be the first thing that popped into his head: "Well, Papa took me to the beach the weekend before school started."

My friend’s reaction was no less than shocked, as I had expected; I had never been one to enjoy long periods spent in the sun. 

"You, of all people, at the beach,” Nadir scoffed amidst laughing in disbelief. "Now this is a story I need to hear."

"Well I didn't expect to be verbally attacked, but yes we did," I replied, throwing on a mocking hurt tone. 

"You realize who you're talking to, right? I thought you'd be used to verbal attacks, it's kind of our niche." We both laughed at that; it was true, to say the least. "Now get on with the story,” he prompted. 

~

_The things that my boy could get me to do was getting out of hand. There I was, hours away from my home, unloading beach gear. All because he convinced me it would be fun._

_"Papa, hurry up!" he called out to me from the sand, even though he could no doubt see that my arms were full._

_"You could give me a hand." That was the only response I could think of as a towel started to fall off my shoulder._

_"Oh right!" he exclaimed as he tried to run up to me, but he was obviously not used to the way feet seem to drag and sink in the sand. It was almost funny and I couldn't help but smile._

_A few minutes later, we were finally unloaded on a picnic table. Gustave made a mad dash for the water the moment everything was at the table, leaving me to set it up. I couldn't be mad - he had never had the opportunity to let his curiosity run wild. He was knee-deep in the water and I was about to have a drink when he called out to me: "I thought you were going to come with me!"_

_"Do I look dressed to come with you?" I asked him, gesturing to my dress pants and white button-down shirt._

_"Please, Papa. The water is so nice."_

_"I'm not a swimmer, Gustave." I really wasn't. Even in my lagoon, I never went in the water. Though to be fair, I did know how to swim, I just didn’t do it all that often._

_"I don't know how to swim either," he responded with a very matter-of-fact tone. I knew he didn't know how to swim; I had read the brief interview between him and one of the vulture-like reporters from when he and Christine had arrived on Coney Island._

_"Well, be careful then. Don't go out too far!" I yelled back at him. I didn't need anything happening to him in the water._

_"But I want you to swim with me!"_

_"Okay, okay. Give me a minute to roll up my pants and take off my socks. I'll be in the water in a moment," I eventually replied. Yet again; that child of mine had some sort of hold on my heart that made me do things I would never do. I really needed to grow a spine._

_Either way, I bent down and began rolling up my pant leg. When I looked up again, I couldn't believe my eyes._

_He was gone._

_My heart stopped. Time slowed down. Where was he? I had only looked away for a moment. But I, of all people, should have known that a moment was all it took._

_Like a fool, I called his name, even though I was smart enough to know that he wouldn't be able to hear me under the water. I didn’t remember getting up; I just knew I was running to the water as fast as I could. The drag of the waves slowed me down for a second and I felt the strain on my legs, but it didn't matter. I needed to find him. Once I reached the point where he could get pulled under, I dove beneath the water and started my search. The water was so murky that I started to doubt whether I would see him or not, but luckily I felt him. Well, not exactly; I felt the rapid displacement of water from him thrashing. I followed that feeling until my arms wrapped around him, then pulled him up and he was gasping for air. He threw his arms around me once he partially caught his breath after a coughing fit. He was shaking so badly; he was so scared, but I might have been just as petrified. I stood up in the water with him in my arms, and instinctively, Gustave wrapped his legs around my waist to make sure he didn't fall._

_"You're alright, I've got you." I tried to reassure him, rubbing his back as we went, but he only tightened his grip. I got him out of the water and set him down on the bench of the picnic table, then quickly grabbed the closest towel and wrapped it tightly around his still shaking shoulders. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"_

_I was glued in my spot in front of him; I knew I was soaking wet myself but I didn't feel it. I just needed to hear him say something._

_"I'm okay. But I'm not going back in the water," he eventually mumbled._

_"Gustave, it was a one-off situation. You'll be fine to go back." I knew he was terrified, as I was for him, but he couldn't shut himself off from the water forever._

_"I'm scared,” he replied._

_"I'll be with you this time. You won't have to go alone. Trust me, okay?"_

_"I want to stay here, Papa." He crossed his arms in an act of defiance, his mind seemingly made up._

_I took a moment to think of a reply. "Alright. Let's take a moment to breathe and warm up a little before we wade back in. How does that sound?"_

_"Okay." There was a lot of hesitation behind his words, but the shaking seemed to have calmed down so at least he was warming up and relaxing. The boy then shifted his attention to me and started to take off his towel, and the next thing I knew was that it was wrapped around me._

_I looked up at him, slightly confused. He never ceased to amaze me with his intense concern for others._

_"Gustave, it's alright. I'm fine. You can keep the towel," I tried to explain, but he was hearing none of it; he was probably hearing my chattering teeth as I uttered those words instead._

_"You're not fine,” he said matter-of-factly._

_"So I'm a little cold, but I'm okay, really!" I insisted, attempting to take the towel off and put it back on him. Unfortunately, my words were once again overshadowed by my chattering teeth._

_"Your teeth are chattering. Keep the towel." He folded the towel even tighter around me. I realized that I wasn't going to win so I kept it and sat down beside him. However, with the sun beating down on us, I eventually had to remove it._

_"Alright, now I'm hot. I'm going to go stand in the water and try to cool down. Why don't you join me?" I offered._

_"I'm going to stay back,” Gustave replied._

_"Alright. Feel free to join me if you'd like." I still didn't want to push him too hard; I knew he would come when he was ready. I walked over to the water and stood there, feeling totally ridiculous standing there with my pants rolled up and my hands on my hips. I had been there a little while and when I turned around to check on Gustave and saw him, surprisingly, walking towards me._

_"Changed your mind, did you?" I asked._

_"The sand here is much better for making sandcastles," he stated before choosing a spot, sitting himself on the ground and beginning his construction._

_An exasperated sigh left me before I spoke again: "Gustave, please. Everything will be fine, I promise. I don't want to be in the water alone." I was quite obviously being ignored, almost instantaneously an idea came to me; an evil grin spread across my face as I kicked some water his way._

_"Hey. What was that for?" he demanded, clearly thoroughly annoyed that I had interrupted his work._

_"To entice you a little bit. Come on, splash me back." I raised my arms up, marking myself as an open target._

_A cheeky smile spread across my face, and in that moment I knew I was past the point of no return. "I'll do you one better." He stood up, walked up to the water and kicked as hard as he could. The water reached so high that I ended up wiping it out of my eyes._

_Once I could open my eyes again, I saw my son laughing at me."You're on," I warned him. Immediate fear washed over him and he started running._

_We went on like that for what felt like five minutes, though in reality, it had probably been more like an hour. Eventually, we were both exhausted and having a snack at the picnic table, all while laughing and telling jokes. It was an amazing afternoon and I wouldn't have traded that moment with him for anything._

~

"Well, that must have been so fun. I'd love to see Erik being so careless. I don't know if you've noticed, Gustave, but your father is a very tightly put together man," Nadir was all too quick to remark as I finished the story.

When there was no reply from Gustave, I looked down to see him leaning against my knee, asleep. "I think we finally tuckered him out. I should probably take him to bed." I tried to rouse him enough so he'd be able to walk himself upstairs, but I quickly realized that tactic was, unfortunately, not going to work.

"You're going to have to carry the boy to bed, you fool," Nadir told me, stifling laughter at my situation.

"But he's heavy," I replied with a groan. 

"And your point is?"

"He should have been in bed an hour ago. Then we wouldn't be in this mess, now would we?" I pointed at my friend to make my point and blame him. 

"Well, whose fault is it that he wasn't in bed? Hm?" He never failed to amuse me; there he was, acting like it was my fault even though he was the one who had given my son a reason to be awake through telling stories. 

"You didn't exactly assert your opinions of opposition,” I retorted. 

"You are out of your league with this parenting thing, my friend. You barely know how to parent yourself, never mind a child. Do you need help?" He was still trying to keep his laughter to himself; trying and failing, I might add.

"Just to lift him initially. I'll be fine afterwards," I said, assuming he was asking about getting Gustave to bed. However, the rather unimpressed look I received made me think otherwise. "What?"

"I meant with raising the child," he clarified, pinching the bridge of his nose.

After a moment of processing, I had a rather blunt answer for him: "Ah. Yes, of course."

"Although, I can help you lift him if needed. We cannot leave him to sleep on the floor," he offered as he got up to help me.

"Yes, I probably should take him to bed."

He smirked at me, clearly entertained by the situation at hand. "What would you do without me, Erik?"

"I would probably still be in a Persian prison,” I replied. 

We both let out a soft chuckle so as not to wake the boy. As I stood up with him in my arms, he did rouse a little, so I began to hum the melody of the song I sang to his mother when I revealed myself to her. He obviously recognized it because a small smile appeared and he nuzzled into my chest. 

I was able to successfully get him into bed without him waking, and smiling at my triumph, I returned downstairs to find Nadir preparing to leave. However, the look on his face made it apparent that I was about to be interrogated. 

"Ask away. I know you've been withholding questions,” I said. 

"Please explain how this happened," he said, obviously referring to the boy.

"Well, I'm not explaining the mechanics of it. But his mother is Christine...Christine Daaé."

The only word suitable for his reaction was baffled. His expression then changed to one of confusion as he stuttered out, "You? And her? But how?!"

"Yes, me. Yes, her. And what do you mean how? Look at me," I said as I gestured to myself jokingly. What he didn't need to know, though, was that I was just as confused as him as to how it all happened.

"I am and I am still confused. So how?" he repeated, not missing the opportunity to mock me.

"Well, if anyone should know **how** , it's you. I'm still in a daze of sorts and don't really know what happened that night. But how...beneath a moonless sky. That's all I'll say."

Nadir's jaw dropped as if it were weighed down by rocks and I can't help but laugh at him. "Is this conversation going to continue?" I inquired. 

"Well, yes. But you understand I'm shocked," he managed to say, trying desperately to make up for his impulse reaction.

"So I gathered from the distance your jaw dropped."

"You know what I mean. I know you never thought this would happen," he pointed out, well aware of my anxiety and pessimism towards having children.

"No, I really didn't." I smirked slightly. My previous fears amused me at that point; I had been so afraid of the possibility of being a father to a child that I hadn't even considered all of the blessings that would come with it.

"But aren't you happy it did?" he asked. I knew he meant well, but in all honesty, I was slightly confused as to why he would ask such a question. Just because I was terrified of having children doesn't mean I wouldn't be over the moon to have one.

"Sometimes yes and sometimes no. She was my angel, the love of my life. She gave me something I never thought I could have; a child of my own. But knowing that I am the reason this boy won't grow up with his mother...that keeps me up at night."

"I understand that. He's a beautiful young boy, Erik. He's going to be a strong young man."

"I hope so," I replied, desperate to change the topic from Christine to anything else. I clutched his shoulder and told him, "Don't be a stranger, Nadir. Otherwise, he'll ask questions."

"I won't. I can see it in your eyes that you feel you are in over your head,” Nadir replied. 

"It's not just a feeling. I know I'm in over my head." I glanced over my shoulder up the stairs towards where Gustave was sound asleep. "Besides, what would I do if I didn't have my conscience with me?"

We shared a hug before he replied, "I'm going to help you, Erik. Both of you. I want to help you raise the boy into the strong, smart young man we both know he can be. And I need to know that you have put certain...habits behind you."

He ran his hand on my right forearm and I knew he was talking about my drug habit. I had been a terrible addict in my younger days and my right arm was where I would often inject myself; definitely a dark point in my life.

"There are lots of things I need to change in order for this boy to be happy and healthy. But he's going to turn me into a better person because of it. I'm putting it all behind me, Nadir, you needn't worry about that. The only thing you should be worried about is how much longer you can help me. I've never understood why you do that; I know I'm a lot to handle,” I explained, taking his hand in mine to reassure him.

"I don't think you're ever going to stop needing my help. As for Gustave, I would love the chance to be a father of sorts again. Even if that means taking the title of Uncle to do it." Nadir gave me a smile. “But for now, good night, Erik,” he said before he walked out the door, starting down the driveway to begin his walk home.

"Thank you," I whispered, the words barely audible as I watched my old friend go, happier than ever that I had him back in my life.


	5. My Mother and I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Gustave starts asking questions about his history, Erik decides to come clean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updated 09-23-20

**_OCTOBER 1909_ **

**_ERIK_ **

"Erik, where's Gustave?"

I looked up from my architectural sketches when I heard Nadir's voice from behind me, blinking hard to bring my eyes into focus after working for an unbeknownst amount of time. I enjoyed working as an architect but had clearly forgotten how time-consuming it was. Retirement was already appealing and I had barely been back to work for two years.

"He's downstairs doing homework," I replied as I started to sketch again.

"I was just down there, Erik," Nadir replied with a rather exasperated-sounding sigh.

"So you would know that he's down there. This seems like quite a pointless conversation, Daroga."

"My thoughts exactly. Why would I be up here actively seeking out a conversation with you if I knew he was downstairs?"

"Well, maybe because-" I stopped myself short when I realized that I was indeed the one in the wrong; Gustave had gone to William's house after school. I groaned quietly as I turned my chair around to face Nadir, who looked quite unimpressed with my parenting abilities. "What time is it?"

"It's eight o'clock. You have been sitting in that chair for hours now," Nadir said. "Can you even feel your backside anymore?"

"It's quite comfortable, actually. And yes, I can feel everything because the chair is so squishy..." I trailed off, confused at my own statement. "What just came out of my mouth?"

"I don't know but you're never going to be allowed to forget it."

I rolled my eyes hard; yet another thing for Nadir to tease me about. My supply of ammunition against him was dangerously low; that needed to be resolved somehow. "What time is it now?"

"I already told you, Erik. I really should limit how much time you spend up here. Get you to stop drawing houses and leave your own for a walk and some fresh air every now and then. It seems to be affecting your short-term memory quite substantially," Nadir retorted.

"I have a business to run and fat businessmen to impress; time limits are not allowed. What time was I supposed to pick him up?" I asked as I got to my feet and started to clear up my desk.

"Seven o'clock."

I froze and turned on my heel, my eyes wide as I realized how late I was. Punctuality was something I had always tried to have, but I had managed to mess it up royally.

"I have to go," I said as I grabbed my jacket off the back of my chair and slipped it on.

"Relax, they won't kill you for being late," Nadir pointed out. "They love having him over and the boys get along so well. William and Gustave certainly would not complain about getting to spend extra time together."

"Maddie just might kill me...hold on." I paused, frowning as I considered the statement that Nadir had made. "They?"

"She's married, remember?" Nadir asked. He smirked a little as I managed to prove my memory loss more and more with every word I said. "Just because we aren't married doesn't mean others aren't either."

I gave him a firm nod, trying to make it seem like I hadn't forgotten that Madeleine was married. "Yes, of course. Married. She has a husband that I have met and just forgot about at this moment. Now if you'll excuse me, I must be off," I quickly said as I raced down the stairs.

"You've never met her husband?!" Nadir cried after me. "Explain yourself!"

"Later! I have to pick up my child!" I managed to trip out the door, only to end up stepping on my shoelace and losing my shoe in the process.

"Your shoe!" I heard Nadir yell.

"Thank you, I hadn't noticed!" I retorted sarcastically as I shoved the shoe half onto my foot and started to rush...shuffle, rather, to William's house down the road.

~

It had taken me longer than usual to get to Madeleine's because I hadn't paused for a moment to try and fix my shoe. It had slipped off a few more times and I stepped on the laces so many times I lost count, but I couldn't afford to be a second later to her home.

When she opened the door for me, her expression breathed confusion and amusement when she saw my flushed face and strange shoe scenario.

"Erik? Did you jog here or something?" she asked.

"Well, sort of half jogged, half shuffled," I replied as I bent over to finally slip my shoe on properly. "My heel will be nice and blistered shortly, but I didn't want to be any later than I already was. I'm sorry, Maddie, but I got caught up in designing a particularly complex home for a client."

"Oh, you're so anxious. We don't mind at all. I made extra casserole for dinner, so we were all right. Come in, get a glass of water," Maddie said with a smile.

I thanked her as I stepped into the house and waited at the front door, hearing Madeleine call for Gustave before she returned with a glass of water in hand. "Work is busy, then, is it?" she inquired.

I sighed and sipped my water. "If you only knew," I replied. "This client wants three floors and five bedrooms and pillars outside, all along with-"

"Maddie, is that Gustave's father? I heard the door open." I stopped mid-conversation when a voice I had never heard echoed through the hall. I quickly was able to put a face to the voice when a young man rounded the corner into the foyer from the nearby sitting room, the two boys right behind him. He was slightly shorter than me, and his darker hair and grey eyes, among other strong features, were a sharp contrast to Madeleine's strawberry blonde hair and softer features. Exact opposites, but seemingly a match for one another.

"Ah yes! Erik, this is my husband," Maddie said with a warm smile.

"Good evening. Erik, was it?" the man asked. He took my hand in his and gave it a shake; a strong grip for a man of his thin stature. "A pleasure to finally meet you. I'm Charles Edwards."

I couldn't stop the laugh from slipping out of my mouth when I heard that; a laugh of disbelief at the rather absurd coincidence that had arisen. First her name and now that?!

"No, it's not," I said with a chuckle. "Your name isn't Charles, right? Madeleine, he's just toying with me, isn't he?"

The young lady was quite confused at my question, as her husband's name had obviously never been much of a cause for question until that point in time.

"Erik, what do you mean? Of course his name is Charles, why would he say otherwise?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe he enjoys joking around. Your name isn't truly Charles, it must be...John or something of that nature. You look like a John...yes, John it is." I gave the couple a smile and glanced at Gustave, who was standing by my side and staring up at me, completely baffled. "Thank you for watching Gustave. I am eager to reciprocate the favour. Have a good night," I said briskly before turning and walking out the door, a bewildered smile plastered on my face.

As soon as he heard the door close behind us, Gustave looked up at me. "What was that?" he asked, sounding just as confused as he looked.

I chuckled a bit with a shake of my head. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing," I replied. I was still trying to wrap my head around the couple with my parents' names; how could Gustave expect me to explain something that I myself didn't understand?

"Papa, tell me!" Gustave laughed and pulled on my arm, trying to slow me down as we walked home. "You never get panicked like that, what happened?"

"In due time, I will tell you. Now, let's get you home. How was your day with William?"

* * *

When we got home, I found that Nadir had gone home and I could see that Gustave was nowhere near ready for bed, so I advised him to try and get some homework done while I cleaned up from my dinner earlier. His homework soon brought him out to the dining table, where he put down a small stack of pictures and spread them out on the table.

"Where did you get those?" I asked as I dropped my dishtowel on the table and looked over his shoulder at the photographs.

"In a box in your room," Gustave replied, totally nonchalant about the entire thing.

"And...why were you going through those boxes in my room? Those pictures were buried; what else did you find?" I knew that some of my mother's belongings that I had inherited were in one of those boxes, so I wondered how far the boy's curiosity had gone.

"Not much. A few ladies' handkerchiefs and gloves, but I assumed those were Mother's. I saw a skull mask of sorts too. One of your Persian outfits?"

I laughed. "No, a costume I wore to a masquerade at the Opera House in Paris, actually," I replied. Not a complete lie; I just omitted the fact that I also _lived_ at the Opera House. "Anyhow. That doesn't answer the question of why you were going through my belongings."

"Oh, I have a school project to work on. I have to put together a family tree with pictures and some descriptions about the people in the photos," Gustave explained.

"I see. Do you have any ideas about what you plan on writing?" I asked as I sat next to him at the table, ready to offer any assistance he needed.

"I'm not quite sure yet. I was going to try and pick out pictures first, and I thought I would start with you and Mother. Do you have any pictures of yourself, Papa?"

I took a deep breath. "I'm afraid not, my boy. With a face like mine, I'm not too keen on mirrors, never mind photographs of myself."

"Well, what am I supposed to do now? You're my father; I have to put you on here!" Gustave exclaimed.

"Alright, calm down. We'll think of something," I said before I took a moment to consider an idea. "Why don't you bring one of my masks to represent me instead of a photo?"

Gustave's eyes lit up when he heard the idea. "You would let me do that? Which one would I take? You use your white one every day."

"I actually have two of these white masks, so there's no problem with you taking one of them. Just as long as you're careful with it; I don't need to see a child running out of the school with my mask on their face," I replied with a bit of a laugh.

Gustave smiled. "I'll be very careful," he promised.

He then looked back to the photos on the table and picked up a few of Christine to look at. "Mother looks so pretty in all of these. Help me pick one, Papa," he requested.

"How do you expect me to choose, Gustave?" I asked with a smirk. "I loved your mother in every moment and you expect me to pick favourites? Don't be ridiculous."

Gustave sighed. "She always looked like a queen out of a book."

"That is for certain." I took the pictures from Gustave and started to flick through them. My heart swelled with every picture I saw; her eyes glittered and her smile glowed once more in those photos, even with their black and white colour. Christine Daae would always live on, that much was sure.

"Well, she looks beautiful in this one," I said as I set down a photo of Christine in a dress I recalled as being dark blue with magenta accents and a hat of the same colour onto the table. "This one as well."

Before I knew it, I had gone through the entire stack and set them all aside. "Right, so they're all my favourites," I determined.

"Okay, we're getting nowhere. Why don't we close our eyes and pick one at random? We know we can't go wrong with any of them," Gustave suggested.

"Yes, good idea," I said with a nod as I gave the pictures a gentle shuffle before closing my eyes as Gustave did to make a blind choice. When I saw the selected photo, I couldn't help but smile at it. "This is a wonderful memory. This was done after her debut in _Hannibal_ at the Paris Opera House. I forgot I had this one, actually."

"So I can use this one for the project?" the boy wondered, wanting to make sure the precious items - relics now - could leave the house.

"Of course," I replied. "It would be fun to see your classmates' reaction to your mother in such...interesting clothes." The boy laughed and set the photo aside while I gathered the remainder and put them in my suit jacket pocket. "Now, are those all the pictures, Gustave?"

"Well, I was actually hoping for a couple more," he said. His voice had become quiet and sheepish for some reason as he spoke, which made me frown a bit. "Mother only had one picture of her father and she left that in Paris. So I was hoping you would have something of your parents so I can talk about at least some of my grandparents."

Now it was my turn to hesitate. His quiet approach made sense now; he never heard me speak of my mother or father, so that relationship was a mystery to him. "You-you want pictures of _my_ parents?" I repeated.

"If you're alright with that. I promise I will be careful with them."

"Gustave, I...I'm just not...not sure."

The boy looked confused. "Are you okay, Papa? You're stammering and you hardly ever trip over your words. Usually, that's me," he said with a small smirk.

"I'm okay, yes," I replied quickly. "It's just...I only have one picture of my parents and I don't want it to get lost." That was an excuse he would believe...wasn't it? Even still, I knew that wouldn't put him in a fair position. He had never met any of his four grandparents; all four of them had died years before his birth. I at least owed it to him to see them, and it was time to get over my own grief and hatred. "But it's alright. I'll show you. It will put you in a better position to talk about them."

I slipped out of the dining room and up to my bedroom, where I found a few of my boxes pulled out of the closet. Gustave had put everything that he had taken out into neat stacks beside the boxes, and I did indeed find the things he had mentioned: the pastel-coloured handkerchiefs and lace gloves that had actually belonged to my mother; the skull mask that had accompanied my Red Death costume to the masquerade where I had presented _Don Juan Triumphant_.

Besides that, I noticed a few other little things that he hadn't mentioned: the leather case that still held the score to my opera; a cross on a beaded necklace that my mother had worn daily sat on top of that case, as did a small golden band; my father's wedding ring, I realized.

I bent over and picked it up, turning it over in my hand before deciding to slip it onto my own ring finger. The metal was cool against my skin and it was strange to feel. I had never worn a wedding band once in my life; some men had worn them twice, even three times, while I had never had the privilege of wearing one at any point. The ring was a symbol of the love my father had had for my mother and how much he cared for her. I should have been able to wear my own with my dear Christine. We should have shared a wedding and our first dance and a newlywed getaway...everything that my own parents had, I should have had. Now, I could never.

I sighed as I slipped off the ring, silently wishing I didn't have to but knowing that I did. I set it on my bedside table to remind me to give it a safe storage spot before I returned my attention to locating the picture frame. Thankfully, I had a rough idea of where it had been put, so it didn't take me long to locate it.

I held the frame gently in my hands as I started to make my way back downstairs, examining the photos as I went. My father's kind eyes looked back at me, filled with humour and admiration. I realized that the two of us shared many physical similarities, and it made me think that I might have been quite handsome if I had been born with a normal face. And my mother...her photo looked so sweet and innocent, but I felt that I knew her too well to believe that.

"Here you are, Gustave," I said as I walked back to my son and handed him the frame. "So that is my father, Charles, on the left, and Madeleine, my mother, is on the right."

"Like William's parents' names. So that's why you panicked and called William's dad John! It was weird for you, wasn't it?" Gustave realized as he started to laugh.

"Yes, please don't bring that up. Not my finest moment," I sighed.

"Okay, sure. But tell me something about them. Start with your father," he prompted.

I nodded and took a deep breath as I sat in the chair next to Gustave and looked at the photos while I got my thoughts together. "Well, I didn't really know him," I explained. "He passed away exactly three months before I was born. What I do know was that he loved my mother very much and that he was an architect as well. I suppose that's where that love of architecture in me came from."

Gustave nodded. "He sounds like he was a nice man."

"From what I've gathered, he was. A friend of our family said that he was quite the comedian, but I suppose that gene skipped a generation," I said.

"You can be funny, Papa," Gustave replied.

I shrugged my shoulders. "Thank you, my boy. I suppose I can be, although Nadir doesn't always think so."

"You two make me laugh," he said with a toothy smile.

"Is that so? Well, that's good. Now, if that's all you need for the project, I'll just put that away." I grabbed the picture frame from him and got up, desperate to escape the inevitable conversation about her. I should have known, though, that with parents like Christine and I, the boy was not lacking in awareness or attention to detail.

"You forgot someone," he said.

"Did I? Did I really? I thought I mentioned everyone," I remarked as I turned on my heel to face him again.

Gustave giggled a bit. "See, you can be funny."

I managed a stiff, breathy laugh. "Yes, funny. Of course."

"So what about your mother?"

I scoffed. "If you can even call her that," I muttered, only to bite my tongue when I realized that I had spoken out loud. I wished I could take it back so badly, but I could already see the gears turning in his head as questions started to form.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he finally inquired.

"Gustave, it's difficult to explain and I don't want anything to upset you," I replied as I ran my hand over my hair.

"Oh. It's that bad?" he asked quietly.

""You see, my boy," I said as I sat back down again, "My mother and I...had an interesting relationship, to say the least." I paused for a moment, trying to pick my words carefully. I didn't want to outright say that my mother had hated me - although it wouldn't have been untrue - but I did not want to undermine such a difficult part of my life. "She wasn't very fond of me, to put it kindly. We had quite an estranged relationship. I'm not quite sure how much detail to give you. I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

I watched him put on a brave face and look at me with a confident, yet sympathetic, expression before he said, "I'll be fine, Papa. Tell me."

I sighed and nodded. "In that case, I will be frank with you; she was afraid of me. She didn't even want me to touch her. She feared my deformity and her relationship with me would interfere with her reputation in our village. She tried to keep me from singing, as she thought such beauty from someone like me was sinful, but not even she could keep music from me. We ended up so distant that she once told me that..." I held my tongue, reaching up to touch my mask as I thought. The memory of my mother screaming at me and telling me that she wished I were dead tore me apart all over again. All the emotions, the trauma seemed to hit me hard all at once.

"Papa?" my son asked. I dropped my hand and focused on Gustave. He was looking at me and patiently waiting for the story to continue. He knew all too well that there was more; he knew enough about me to know how complicated my life was.

"Never mind," I said, pushing my emotions back again. "One day, it all became too much. I ran away. I was younger than you, only nine years old, when I left and began my journey. A trek that would take me to Italy, Russia, Persia...and eventually right back to where I had begun. What an interesting circle I seemed to have gone around, hm? I went back to St. Martin-de-Boscherville. A fairly insignificant little place in France, as you saw. I had travelled home with the intention of destroying my childhood home, but instead, something possessed me to knock on the front door. Instead of my mother answering it, her good friend, Marie, did. I remembered her - she had always been kind to me. That day, though, through her tears, she managed to tell me that my mother had died only three days before I arrived."

I blinked hard and looked down at my fidgeting fingers. I was begging myself not to let tears fall, but it was tempting as I felt them welling up and burning my eyes when I held them back. I never spoke of my mother, so coming clean about everything all at once was very overwhelming, apparently. It wasn't the time, though; I needed strength to get through the discussion.

"You would think that after what I had endured by her hand, I would have been relieved to know that she was gone," I continued shakily. "In all honesty, though, I wasn't sure how to feel. Somehow there was grief. She may not have been a brilliant mother, but that bond between a child and his mother is deep-seated, I suppose."

I took a breath, finally starting to get my emotions under control as I finished the story. "Anyhow. Those are your grandparents," I added, forcing a smile as I took the frame again and got to my feet. The silence in the room weighed heavily on me, almost like I was drowning in it, and I glanced back at Gustave to see a shocked expression on his face. I sighed, suddenly aware that I had dumped all of that on my twelve-year-old son. Yet another one of my bad ideas.

"I'm sorry, that was a lot. I probably shouldn't have told you all that, but even still, I don't want you to feel sorry for me. Thanks to my mother, I left France, and if I hadn't, I never would have gone on my journey through the world. If I hadn't done that, I never would have met your mother...and I never would have been blessed with you," I said.

At that moment, Gustave got to his feet and walked over to me to give me a tight hug. "I still feel bad, Papa," he whispered.

I tipped his head up so I was able to look into his eyes. "I appreciate that. But you know what? Even with our strained relationship, I knew my mother well. Something that I know for sure is that she would have loved you," I said with a small smile.

The boy smiled wide and gave me another squeeze. "Papa, is your mother the woman in your drawings? I know most of them are Mother, but there was another lady. I didn't know who she was," he said.

I raised my eyebrow. "Well, for one thing, we need to have a chat about you snooping through my things, but yes, those were sketches of my mother."

"She was very pretty. You have her eyes."

I sighed shakily, biting my lip to force myself to maintain my composure. "Thank you, _mio soldatino_. Just as you have your mother's beautiful eyes, I said as I gave his hair a ruffle. "Now, go get ready for bed. I'll be in shortly to say goodnight."

I bent over and gave the top of his head a kiss before he took off for his room, then followed him up and walked back into my room, setting the framed pictures of my parents on my dresser instead of back in its box. I paused for a second, simply staring at their photos, before I turned to my closet and started to pack my belongings back into their appropriate boxes; I slipped the Red Death's mask into the box with the score of my opera, then wrapped the crucifix necklace in my mother's handkerchiefs and set it in the box before I closed the boxes up and slid them across the floor, tucking them into my closet.

As I pushed the door closed, though, the breeze coming through my open window caught the door and slammed it shut with much more force then I had intended. It wasn't the slam that made me flinch, though; rather, it was the sound of glass shattering as the vibrations from the slam sent something falling to the floor. I slowly turned and sighed when I saw the frame with my parents' photographs laying face down on the floor. I picked it up and gazed at the damage, gently running my fingers over the cracked glass. One main crack ran across my father's chest, but my mother's photo seemed to have taken the brunt of the impact; symbolic, almost. The glass had shattered over her face and the picture had shifted down in the frame, but it was the piece of paper poking out from behind it that made my brow crease.

I carefully undid the frame's small latches and popped the back off to find a folded, yellowed piece of paper set behind the picture of my mother. Taking it out, I set it on the bed beside me while I fixed the picture and closed up the frame, making a mental note to purchase a new one. I turned to look back at the piece of paper sitting atop my sheets, trying to figure it out without even opening it. Who would have hidden it in there? Myself was my one guess. Had I hidden a note or sketch in there? A failed composition tucked away where I knew I would never look? Finally, I picked it up and unfolded it to see my first name written in a delicate script that I recognized immediately.

I hadn't hidden this note for myself. My mother had.

I didn't read past my name for a few minutes; my eyes stayed locked on where she had written it, too afraid to continue and discover the note's content. So I busied myself with admiring my mother's handwriting; it was so neat and precise with thin clean lines connecting every letter and the dot above the letter 'i' in my name wasn't solid. That was the only feature of her writing I had inherited; hollowed dots when I wrote the letter 'i'. My handwriting had never been beautiful like hers; even with years of practice to avoid the illegible scratches I had produced as a child, I knew my personal font would never be as elegant as hers.

Eventually, my eyes dropped to the first line of the letter. I knew I could not just stare at my name forever, and something ached in my heart, urging me to read. I needed to know what she had said...about me. So, with a deep breath and a long blink, I began to read:

_Erik,_

_It took me too long to sit down and write you this, and the truth is that I probably won't even be able to get it all down. I suppose I should start by telling you that I am truly sorry. I know those are empty words this late in our relationship, but I mean them to the truest definition. You deserved a better mother than me. You deserved someone who didn't make you feel like a monster. Dear God, the things I said to you...I would take it all back if I could. You had done nothing to deserve the treatment you endured at my hand. You were only a boy. I was supposed to love you but I couldn't provide you with that._

_There was so much of my life that I wanted to share with you, so much of your father's life that I wanted to share. I wanted you to meet your family; aunts and uncles, all your cousins, and everyone else on top of that. I should have nurtured your beautiful voice, but now our home is empty without it. For all the times I said I wanted you gone, I never could have imagined how much I would miss you once you had left._

_I do hope you can find it in your heart to accept my apology. I do not ask you to forgive me because what I did was unforgivable. I just want you to know that I wish I could take it all back._

_If you ever find this letter, I hope you have found love because you are worthy of it, just as all humans are. Because that is just what you are - you are human. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. You are brilliant and strong, and you are human. I am proud to say that I can call you my son._

_All my love,_

_Madeleine_

I hadn't realized just how much my hands were shaking until I finished reading the letter. I stood and started to walk aimlessly up and down the length of my room, my tear-filled eyes locked on that last paragraph, those three words: _You are human._

She never would have said that to my face when I lived at home. In fact, she told me quite the opposite, but...a revelation of that magnitude didn't dawn on someone overnight. My mother had felt that way for a while; that I, her son, was a living, breathing human with feelings and needs. She had just been too caught up in herself to tell me.

Although I doubted hearing that would have prevented me from running away from home, finding that letter sooner might also have brought me back to France sooner as well. I might have gone home and reconciled somewhat with my mother; I could have offered her complementary medical care that would have let her live a much longer life. Perhaps Gustave would have known his grandmother for at least a time.

I folded up the note again and tucked it into the breast pocket of my jacket, almost unintentionally placing it near my heart. All of a sudden, I had a mother. It was a sensation I had never felt before. Besides that, the thought that there was a family of mine scattered across France and who knew where else...and that was only my mother's side! Never mind the Destler side of me. Not that it made a difference; I wasn't going to reach out to my family only to be humiliated. That letter, though...it changed so much.

The note still tucked over my heart, I turned to my bedside table and pulled open the drawer to pull out my sketchbook. I sat on my bed and opened the cover, the book flipping right to my sketches of Christine in the middle of the small book. I had opened to those pages and creased the book to draw there so many times that it naturally fell open to that page every time now.

For a change, though, I turned closer to the start of the book and glanced at several pages with pencil sketches of my mother. I hadn't known what to do with my grief after her death, so I drew her over and over again, pouring my emotions out on the page.

As I flipped through the sketches, a small folded piece of paper fell out from between two pages. I picked it up and unfolded it, smiling when I found it to be one of the architectural sketches I had made as a child. The lines were dark and messy, but the artistic ability was there, just waiting to be honed.

She made sure I got those little pictures back in my hands, passing them from architect to architect in order to reach me. She wrote that note and hid it so I would never find it, but poured her heart out to me as if I would. She left her fortune, her home...her everything to me. Her son that she never batted an eye at. Her only son. Her little boy, one could say.

Perhaps my mother did love me...in her own special way.


	6. I Haven't Been Completely Honest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clearing up the lies that have been told.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updated 09-25-20

**_DECEMBER 1909_ **

**_ERIK_ **

The weeks that followed seemed to have blurred together. Not only had the boys become even more inseparable, but Madeleine and I had become good friends. It was bound to happen given the amount of time we were spending together while our sons played.

The day I was confronted by that same friend had seemed like just a normal day for us all; the boys were playing out in the snow and I was standing on the porch waiting for Madeleine to come and pick William up. When she arrived, we stood together, giving the boys the usual five extra minutes they always asked for, though nothing could have mentally prepared me for what she was going to say.

"You have some explaining to do," she said, her arms crossed. I knew what she was referring to, but I thought that maybe if I played dumb, she would drop the matter.

"What do I have to explain?" I asked as I tried to be as level as possible with my tone, but no surprise, I was having a panic attack on the inside. I thought I had managed to escape that conversation.

I was mistaken.

"Your stammering and the look of dread when my husband introduced himself," she said, looking at me expectantly.

"Oh that. Look, Maddie, before I explain, I need you to understand that I am so sorry that I dashed out the door like that. It was rude and I hope that Charles will accept my apology," I said.

"I'm sure he will. Now stop stalling and tell me what happened."

"Of course. I started panicking because of the irony of both you and your husband's names oddly enough." A nervous laugh escaped me as I attempted to make it sound like a lighter subject than it actually was for me. "You see, I told you that you have the same name as my mother. Now, the thing that really got to me the other day is that Charles is also the name of my father."

"My goodness. That is quite a one in a million chance, isn't it?" Madeleine said, and I could tell she was beginning to understand my immediate reaction. "Were you close to your parents?"

"My father passed away before I was born. As for my mother, we had, for lack of a better term, an indifferent relationship. I think she saw me as a reminder of my father, who she loved so much, and my facial...condition kept her from wanting to show great affection," I explained.

"That must have been awful, Erik. You know, Charles actually found it quite funny. He's actually trying to come up with a different name for you," Madeleine said with a chuckle.

"Good to know he has a sense of humour." I stifled a laugh and thought of the awkwardness of the next time we would eventually interact. Not a conversation I was looking forward to.

After a moment, Maddie spoke up again on a new topic: "You know, Erik, I still have yet to meet your wife. I was thinking perhaps we could all have dinner together. Even a double date."

My mouth went as dry as a desert. I had yet to come up with a suitable excuse as to why Gustave's mother was never around. I had thought about saying she was at work, but trying to think of an appropriate profession left me at a loss of ideas. That was it; I had to come clean. I knew I couldn't keep up the charade for much longer.

"I'm afraid I haven't been completely honest with you," I began, fumbling over my words. "Please come inside. I'll make some tea and explain myself."

Madeleine frowned a bit, but nodded and got out of her chair to follow me inside. "The boys won't object to extra time to play, I'm sure. We have time to chat," she said.

Once the tea was made and we were properly seated, the inevitable question arrived: "What on earth have you been dishonest about, Erik? I've never seen you be so cryptic," Madeline stated. She looked rather worried about me all of a sudden; I wasn't sure what she was thinking I had lied about, but I didn't think the reality of the situation was what she had in mind.

"Madeleine...Gustave's mother passed away about two years ago," I admitted.

A frown appeared on her face, already baffled by the statement. "But Erik, you...you wear a wedding ring," she said, looking at the gold band on my ring finger that I was twisting as we spoke.

"This is my father's ring, actually. Social construct dictates that I am not permitted to be a parent without being married, so this ring casts that illusion. His mother...well, you may have come across her name and her work before, actually. Have you ever heard of Christine Daaé?" I had to be blunt, that much I was aware of. Otherwise, I knew I'd be dancing around it forever without ever answering anything. Her reaction was no less than shocked; her eyes went wide and her jaw went the slightest bit slack. She had obviously heard the name, and I was glad to hear that at least someone outside of France had; my Christine deserved to be remembered, and not only by Gustave and myself.

The silence between us needed to be broken. She obviously wasn't going to be the one to do it, so that it up to me: "Now that is a reaction I have seen before."

She snapped back to a normal facial expression, but the look in her eyes was enough for me to deduce that she wanted me to continue and wasn't going to say anything until I did.

"A gunshot killed her," I began. "You probably read about the incident in a newspaper. I know she was married to the Vicomte de Chagny, but Gustave is my child. When she passed, she left him with me. She never told anyone, not even myself, that Gustave was mine, but for obvious reasons. You understand what that would do to her if she were to come out and admit that she had a child out of wedlock, with someone other than the man that she married on top of that."

"My god, Erik. That's awful. I could never imagine what that has done to you. But...I do have one question if you're comfortable answering it," Maddie said, her face painted with sympathy, though I had hoped she wasn't feeling sorry for me. I did not want her pity, or anyone else's for that matter. I may never recover from the loss, and Gustave may not either, but I didn't want her to feel sorry for us.

"Ask away. It's the least I owe you for lying to you all this time," I said, folding my hands together.

"Not to be rude, but you called her your wife when you mentioned her before. Now you say she was married to the Vicomte. So I suppose my question is, were the two of you ever married?" Maddie queried.

"A natural question, though it, unfortunately, has quite a confusing explanation. You see, Christine and I were together for what felt like only a single night in the world. But I was not in a position to give her what she needed, which is why I left for the Americas while she stayed in Paris and married the Vicomte." I had to take a moment to breathe before continuing; I hadn't thought I would get so emotional given that that was an abbreviated version of our story, but that was exactly what I found to be happening. "But unknowingly, I had sired a child, and ten years later, Gustave had grown into a fine young boy and the family found themselves in America as well. Christine and I were reunited and she confessed that Gustave was my son. After the tragedy, Gustave chose to stay with me and we attended her funeral in Paris together. Before her passing, Christine had told me that she loved me and would follow me. So yes, I do consider her mine, even if we weren't bonded in marriage."

Madeleine had been listening attentively to the whole story and once I was done, she looked to be at a loss for words. I couldn't blame her for that, as it was quite a lot to process at once. However, every moment she didn't react heightened my anxiety tenfold.

The reaction that eventually came was not one of words, though; instead, she slowly stood up and walked over to me, and the next thing I knew, she was hugging me tightly, almost as a version of silent condolences.

"Thank you for telling me, Erik. Don't hold it against yourself for lying to me; that's a difficult subject to come clean about," she said quietly as she grabbed my hand and squeezed it. "I'll go get William so we can get home. We'll have you two over for supper very soon."

I managed a small smile and got to my feet. "I appreciate you being so patient about it. I believe I'll hold that lie against myself for a while, though. You are a person that I consider one of my closest friends; lying to you is something I never want to do. Thank you for the dinner invitation, we will certainly take you up on it. I would imagine that your lasagna will be on the menu," I said as I raised my brow and gave her an expectant smirk. "I quite enjoyed it the last time you sent some over."

"Oh, of course. Now that I know you have a favourite food of mine, I will keep it in mind for when you come over," Maddie said. She shot me a wide grin before she gave me another quick hug and followed me to the front door. "Have a good night, Erik."

"You too. Say hello to Charles for me," I replied.

Maddie laughed a little. "Using his real name! We're making progress," she teased as she stepped out onto the porch. "I'm impressed."

"That's what I aim for," I said with a smirk as I watched Gustave say goodbye to his friend before he ran to the porch and gave me a quick hug.

"Do I have to go to bed, Papa?" he asked.

"You do, indeed. You have that presentation tomorrow, don't you?" I asked.

The boy groaned but nodded. "Okay, I'll get to bed. Good night, Papa."

"Good night, my boy," I said as I gave him a quick hair ruffle and followed him inside to send him upstairs to bed. I took a deep breath once I found myself alone, feeling like a massive weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. Lying to a friend was a horrid thing, I had realized. At that moment, I vowed that I would never lie to Madeleine again - or anyone for that matter.

* * *

Madeleine had only been gone a few moments when Nadir arrived. He had obviously seen her leave and had a suspicious-looking smile on his face when he walked in my door, to say the least. Thankfully, Gustave had gone upstairs to get ready for bed when he came in; I couldn't imagine the embarrassment we both would have felt if he had heard what Nadir suggested.

"So that was the new lady friend?" he asked as he slipped his shoes off and walked into the sitting room. I knew him well enough to know that he was going to have himself some fun with that idea; he did seem to enjoy making me as uncomfortable as possible any chance he got.

"She is a lady who is my friend. Nothing more. Her son is a good friend of Gustave, as you well know," I attempted to explain as I sat in the chair across from him, but I could tell that it had gone in one ear and out the other.

"Aw, no, I think you fancy her," Nadir replied.

"Well then, this would be yet another one of the countless incidents where you would be wrong, my friend." I thought that would shut him up, but I only got a raised eyebrow as a response. "You do know that whatever you're about to suggest couldn't possibly be true, right?" I asked.

"If you say so," he said, a cocky grin stuck on his face.

"She is married, Nadir."

"Well, that certainly didn't stop you before."

"You are truly impossible," I scoffed at him.

"You say that as if you aren't," he retorted. It was a fair argument, as I couldn't think of what else to say, so we just ended up laughing together over the ridiculousness of it all.

"I've been rubbing off on you, haven't I, Daroga? Maybe this wouldn't be such an issue if you actually spent time at your own house," I eventually jabbed in reply. I couldn't let him have the last word; that was not how our friendship worked. "Why do you spend so much time here? Could the impossible truly have taken place? Have you become fond of me?"

"First of all, only in your dreams. Secondly, if my company is an issue, I can easily leave right now," Nadir replied.

"I know you could leave at any moment. You made that point quite clear in Paris. But who else is capable of putting up with me?"

"This Madeleine person, perhaps." He was all too quick to come back to where he knew he could get me uncomfortable and tongue-tied which, unfortunately, was exactly what happened; I could practically feel the blood rushing to my cheeks, and, in a weak effort to spare my dignity, I covered the unmasked half of my face.

"I should have seen that coming, shouldn't I?" I muttered.

"You did walk right into it," he replied. He wore a triumphant look that I really needed to wipe off his face. I could have made fun of the fact that he was just as single as me, but thinking two steps ahead, I decided against it. Given that he might have taken it as an opportunity to imply that I wanted a relationship with Madeleine, which was the last thing I needed, I vouched to keep my mouth shut.

"You'll have to excuse me, it seems I'm out of practice in the art of dealing with you," I eventually said. "What do you do when you aren't babysitting myself and Gustave?"

"Well actually, I run my own private security company. How did you think I sustained myself?" Nadir inquired.

"Why else would I be asking? Now I know that old habits do die hard, since you opted to stay in the security business. I thought you may have wanted to branch out considering all the grey hairs I gave you in Persia," I remarked.

"I suppose you have a point. My hair was all one colour when I met you, now look." He ran his hand through his dark hair that had become flecked with grey, sighing as he did.

"I'm sure work keeps you very busy. Do you still read though? I remember you being quite a bookworm when we resided together," I said, trying my best to steer the conversation away from the fact that neither of us was still in the prime of our lives. "That is, when you weren't playing the role of my handler."

"I still live my life as your handler," he replied dryly. To be fair, a valid point.

"I sat down to have a nice chat. Why is that so hard for us to do? You must agree that I am much easier to deal with now than I was then," I pointed out, remembering how much of a disaster I was when Nadir met me. "I was nineteen, a child at best."

"You know why, Erik. I don't need to go down that list," Nadir retorted.

I gave up on the idea of trying to combat that; I knew quite well that he had a substantial list. "Fine then; I'll repeat my question which you so rudely ignored. Any hobbies, Daroga?"

One could practically hear his eyes roll, he did it so hard. "Yes, I still read. I have quite the collection."

"Any recent favourites? I want to start reading more again." It felt like I hadn't picked up a book in ages; one didn't realize how much they love something until they no longer have it. "This one design has had me stumped and it's driving me mad."

" _Arabian Nights,_ actually. I read it last week; incredible writing in my opinion," he replied. He had a look in his eye that told me he wanted to talk more about it, but if I asked further, he'd ruin the whole plot for me.

"Of course," I said with a smirk.

He opened his mouth, probably to give me a snarky reply, but saw something over his shoulder and gave me a smirk in return instead. I turned in my chair and frowned when I saw Gustave standing at the bottom of the stairs.

"Why are you still awake?" I asked him. "I already told you that you should be asleep by now if you are to wake up for school in the morning."

"I'm thirsty. May I please have a glass of water?" he asked, his voice giving way to the fact that he wanted to be asleep just as much as I wanted him to be.

"Of course. Go get one, but then back up to bed with you," I replied. I expected that to be the end of it, but he just stood there, as if waiting for something. "Is there something else that you need?"

"I can't reach the cups," he replied sheepishly, looking at his feet in embarrassment.

A deep sigh escaped me as I remembered that my son had yet to inherit my height, if he would at all - he might take after his mother in that sense. "Dear god, I forgot how short you are," I said.

"I can go get a chair to stand on. Then I can get it on my own," he suggested, his eyes lighting up at the thought.

My brain ran through a million ways that could go wrong and all of them gave me extreme anxiety. He was about to go to the kitchen when I told him, "No, no. Unsafe. I will get the cup and then you can fill it yourself."

"Why do I have to fill it? You'll already have it in your hand," he said.

"Because, my boy, it's called independence. You are more than capable of filling it yourself," I attempted to explain.

He raised his hands in a half-hearted surrender. "Fine, fine."

I left and got the cup, then came back to find him sitting in my chair, clearly hoping I'd absentmindedly fill it and he wouldn't have to. "What are you doing? That's my seat, first off, and secondly, don't you have a glass of water to fill? Nice try."

A groan from Gustave was his reaction to his failed scheme. He stood up and trudged over to me to retrieve his cup. "I'm going, I'm going!" he huffed.

With that, I sat down in my chair and had barely picked up my conversation with Nadir when Gustave reappeared between the two of us. "Now what is it? You know you hate waking up in the mornings, and staying up late only makes it worse," I pointed out.

"I wanted a hug before I went upstairs. I finished my water already," he told me with a certain confidence in his voice. "I came down for a drink and a hug because you never gave me a hug goodnight before you sent me up earlier."

"Tsk, tsk Erik. You should know better," Nadir said, clearly trying hard not to laugh as he mockingly scolded me.

"I'll deal with you later," I said with a pointed glare in his direction before I returned my attention to my boy and I couldn't help but smile at him.

"Come here, then." I gave him a tight squeeze, desperately not wanting him to eventually grow up and hating that he wouldn't stay quite so small forever.

Once we let go, he began his walk back up the stairs, evidently satisfied with himself, and he had almost made it when Nadir called to him: "Wait a minute, don't I get one?"

A small laugh came from Gustave before he said, "Sorry Uncle Nadir," then came back over and gave Nadir a quick hug.

"Much better. Now listen to your father. Up to bed now," Nadir said with a smile.

He gave us a brief nod before he said, "Good night Papa, good night Uncle Nadir." With that, he finally made it upstairs and back to bed, leaving me to deal with Nadir.

"You are ridiculous. You know that, right?" I asked.

"I wanted a hug! How else am I supposed to get them? It's not like you hug me," he scoffed at me. He was acting more childish than me for a change, and it made me uncomfortable, to say the least.

"We don't hug because that's not how we work. You know how awkward us hugging is." I knew he knew that; it wasn't new information to him.

"Agreed. So now that you've admitted that, you can't complain when I ask your son - my honorary nephew - for a hug every once in a while," he teased with a tone that was a little too matter-of-fact for my taste.

"You know there's no need to use the term honorary," I confessed to him. "You are the closest thing this boy has to family besides me. You and I are practically brothers. He is your nephew and you are his uncle. End of story."

"I appreciate that, Erik. On that note, how is he doing in school?" he asked, undoubtedly wanting to change the subject.

"Very well, actually. All of his teachers seem to be very happy with him," I said with a nod.

"Wonderful to hear, but what about friends? I pray he didn't inherit your social skills." He smirked at his own joke, clearly pleased with himself.

"Thankfully not. His mother didn't struggle with that as much as I did. He seems to have taken after her." In all honesty, I was extremely grateful for that; I didn't know what I would have done if he took after me in that sense. "He is still very much my son, though. He doesn't like being in large crowds, but he has a few acquaintances and he and William are inseparable."

"Good to hear. Whatever Christine did to him seems to have stuck," Nadir pointed out.

"Thank God for that," I said with a quiet chuckle.

"Hopefully he stays that way," he began with an almost cautionary tone to his voice. "I've been told that the teenage years are difficult for both child and parent"

"Don't remind me. I already dread it and he's only twelve." Once again, I reminisced over my own teen years and how I handled them as I considered how my son's would turn out. "My teenage years were interesting. I found my love of architecture, I also had my first...admiration for a young girl. I wonder what his will be like."

Nadir chuckled at my point of view and said, "Well, the young ladies are inevitable, but his interests are still up for questioning."

"The girls are inevitable, are they? I'd like to hope he has a normal love life - nothing like mine."

"I'm sure he'll be fine. Just have yourself prepared for when he gets his heart broken." Ever the optimist, that man.

The thought of Gustave coming to me for comfort after heartbreak terrified me, I realized. "Never mind him; I don't think I'll be able to handle myself should that happen. We Destler boys seem to be quite emotional over the girls we adore," I said.

"Then only time will tell," Nadir said with a nod.

"Agreed." The thought of him growing up hit me again. "Why can't he just stay the age he is? I like him like this," I said with a sigh.

Nadir snickered at me. "You complained about his height less than ten minutes ago," he pointed out.

"That doesn't mean I don't love him the way he is. He's so kind and small. You can't blame me for wishing he'd stay that way."

"You can't protect him from the world forever, Erik. You-" he began.

"I've seen the world and its brutality, and I'll be damned if he has to see that too," I said abruptly. I found myself thinking back to all the screams, the cruelty of anyone who saw me; every name I'd ever been called; the people who had been hurt by my existence. There was no way I would let Gustave be hurt by that same world. "I want nothing more than to protect him from that. The world doesn't deserve a soul like his, just like it didn't deserve Christine."

Even with his realization of how serious I'd gotten, Nadir still kept his standing on the matter. "A sheltered life is no life to lead, Erik. You know that," he said softly.

"I just can't lose my little boy," I finally confessed.

Clearly understanding what I was talking about, a calmer expression washed over Nadir's face. "You aren't going to lose him. Eventually, he's going to grow into a fine gentleman you can be even more proud of, whether you like it or not."

Once I had properly calmed myself down, I nodded. "This is why I need you around. You know how to knock some sense into me," I said.

"I know that. The real question is why I keep you around," he replied. A small laugh was shared between the two of us; it felt better to laugh given how serious we had just been.

"You love me and you know it," I teased

"Debatable," he scoffed.

I pretended to be shocked, hand over my heart and all. "I'm wounded," I said, making my friend laugh, no doubt at how childish I was behaving. "Oh, come on, Daroga, you know it to be true."

He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and said, "Perhaps it has some merit."

"There it is!" I declared as I pointed at him triumphantly. "The truth at last."

He shushed me before scolding me: "Quiet down or you'll wake him."

"Oh, if you knew how good this child is at ignoring what he doesn't want to hear. Like when I tell him to do his homework." The laugh from him that followed was more sarcastic than I had expected.

"I'm sure it's like talking to a wall," he began. "I would have absolutely _no_ idea what that must be like. Especially not with a grown man and his work."

I knew there would be a joke in there somewhere. "You're the one who came into the room where I was working. That's your own fault," I retorted.

"I can't win, can I?" he asked, looking completely exasperated with me.

"Now why would I let that happen?" I inquired.

"I couldn't tell you. On a more entertaining subject - for me at least - I do enjoy hearing about your social endeavours. Did you end up meeting Madeline's husband the other night?"

"I really don't want to talk about that," I admitted, wanting to avoid the query from him as much as I had wanted to dodge it when it came from Maddie.

"Then it must be good." He leaned forward in his chair, obviously enthralled with the idea. "I'm sure it couldn't have been that bad. He's a man, as are you. You two must have gotten along a little," he said.

"To be frank, I panicked," I admitted, praying that saying that would be enough, but of course it wasn't.

"Oh, that never entails anything good." The look on his face made it clear that he wanted more. "Did you get his name?"

"That's actually the reason I panicked."

"Why would you panic over his name? Erik, it's his name!" he exclaimed, clearly shocked, though I wasn't sure why; he'd seen me have moments of hysteria over less reason than that. "Well, what is his name? It has to mean something. I think I'd die if he was a Chagny."

"As would I, but actually, his name is Charles," I explained.

"Oh no, not Charles! An English name for an English man? A true crime indeed. Why would that panic you?" Only then did I realize that I hardly spoke about my father around him so he obviously didn't understand the circumstances.

I couldn't beat around the bush, so I had to blurt it out: "He has the same name as my father, Nadir." With that, an instant silence filled the room as I watched the gears turning in his head while he tried to put the pieces together.

"Madeleine was your mother's name too, was it not?" he eventually asked.

"Now you're catching on," I said as I cracked a smile in an attempt to break the tension.

Thankfully, Nadir had the same idea since a smile spread across his face as well. "I want to laugh, but I feel that would be rude, so I'm trying very hard to be a decent friend at the moment," he professed. "So what did you do?"

"I stuttered and ended up insisting that his name was John." My face instantly dropped into my hands. I didn't need to see his reaction but could hear it nonetheless.

"You didn't!" he managed to get out in between laughs.

"I wish I could say I didn't," I mumbled with my face still in my hands.

He was still laughing like a madman when he said, "Oh, Erik. What did he do? I can only imagine the confusion. Better yet, what did Madeleine do?"

I finally lifted my head to see him; his face was red from laughter, which said a lot considering his darker skin tone. "I got out with Gustave before any questions could be asked," I replied.

Another slightly stifled chuckle escaped him. "You're so awkward, my friend. Now what? You can't just call him John forever."

"You underestimate me," I said, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Erik, you'll have to explain it to him. You'll just scare a friend away," Nadir pointed out.

"I'll explain. But I'll still call him John." I smiled at the thought; perhaps I could have some fun with it.

"Well, I'm going to get home before you give me a new name," he said as he got to his feet and started towards the door.

I got up and followed him to see him out. "Probably for the best. To be fair, I already call you Daroga enough for it to be considered a second name."

"Even though I'm no longer the Daroga?" he inquired.

"To quote you: 'Old habits die hard.'" I said, making a point of quoting him; it always did annoy him when I brought his words back on him.

The look of annoyance passed quickly, as he probably realized I was doing it to get a reaction out of him and refused to give me that satisfaction. "Alright, alright. Get to bed. You look exhausted,"

"Same to you," I said; the bags under his eyes were clear evidence of that.

"Erik Destler, I mean it. Do not stay up tonight. I can tell you haven't slept well or at all lately," he ordered, using his most serious tone.

"Oh, how frightening. You used my full name as if that holds more power over me. I'm so afraid. Almost as afraid as when you threatened to wring my neck." I couldn't help but chuckle at his pursuit for authority over me. I hugged him, ignoring the fact that we had called that exact gesture awkward, and he stepped out into the early night air.


	7. So I Met Someone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gustave has met a special someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updated 09-27-20

**_FEBRUARY 1915_ **

**_GUSTAVE_ **

I missed her! Although I wasn’t quite sure why; we had spent the afternoon together the day before with William and the rest of our friends. We were supposed to be doing homework, but the two of us just ended up chatting and laughing away like the others weren't there. I wanted to see her again but Papa didn't know yet and Monday seemed so far away and-

"Gustave? Hello?" I blinked hard as my father waved a hand in front of my face. "Are you still here? If you have no interest in paying attention to the lesson, we can stop," he said. "I have work I could be doing. One of my clients is already getting impatient with the wait for their home design."

"No, no! I'm listening!" I insisted as I adjusted my posture before he would have to tell me to. "Where were we? Practising one of Chopin's compositions, right? I'm ready to play it for you."

"Gustave,” Papa sighed and ran a hand over his hair. "We were practising one of Mozart's pieces; we have been for just under an hour now. Or at least I have been. What have you been up to?"

"Daydreaming, I suppose. My mind is on someone...something else." I cursed myself silently for tripping over my words as I watched my father's brow crease into a frown. "Just thinking about something. Not anything in particular."

"You said 'someone'. Who is the someone in question?"

I sighed, but couldn't help but smile as I got to my feet and started to pace a little. "So I met someone..." I started. "I met a girl."

"A girl? Another one?" Papa repeated, already the slightest bit wary of the scenario at hand. "Do you really want to put us through that again?"

“Us?” I laughed. “I was the one who dealt with the heartbreak!”

“And I was the one who had to deal with you as you dealt with said heartbreak. I never realized just how related we are until I saw how much you cried over that young lady,” he replied.

“But Papa, this one is different!” I cried, practically whining to defend the girl who had captured my heart.

He chuckled. “Of course she is. They’re all different at the start, _mio soldatino.”_

“How would you know? You only ever truly loved one woman,” I said with a frown.

“One that you know of.”

That was the comment that threw me for a loop. “What?!” I exclaimed.

“Oh, nothing. So, this new girl. Tell me her name,” Papa prompted, sitting back in his chair and crossing his legs at the knee, all the while never wiping a small smile from his face.

"Lara." My father’s past lover quickly forgotten, my heart fluttered just saying her name - she truly did have me head over heels for her. "Lara Thomas. We met at the beginning of the school year in the music practice room at lunch. I ducked in there because William had gone off for a sports tryout with our friends and my anxiety was kicking in, so I escaped to the music room. Little did I know, but I had a guest at my private performance."

~

Dear God, Will, why did you have to leave me before the busiest transition of the day? _I thought. My heart started racing; there were far too many people here for me to be comfortable with. My mind flashed back to the crowds on Coney Island; even though it was such a long time ago, it still came back to me like it was yesterday. My only thought was that I needed to get out and fast._

_Once I had myself grounded enough in reality to know where I was, I made a mad dash for the music room. Nobody was ever there, so I figured I would be able to calm down in there. When I arrived, I made sure to close the door behind me so that the people passing by couldn’t see me. I proceeded to curl into a ball with my back keeping the door closed. I couldn’t see straight, but one thing was certain; the last thing I needed was everyone seeing me in that state. I would be made fun of for who knew how long. My heart rate still hadn’t slowed down, but it was then that my eyes darted to something that I knew would help. I slowly peeled myself off the ground and made my way to the piano in the corner by the window. I started to play a song that I knew by heart, and no matter where I was, she could always bring me back down to Earth._

_“Think of me, think of me fondly when we’ve said goodbye.” The words poured out with the notes as I played. Mother could always calm me down; Papa had learned over the years, but sometimes I needed her._

_When I had finished the song, my heart rate had calmed down and I had my vision back; she may not have been with me, but even the thought of her brought peace to my heart._

_“You play beautifully.” A quiet voice rang through my ears like a bell and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I jerked around to see a girl sitting in a chair across the room and I could feel the heat rushing to my face. How had I not noticed her before? I had never played in front of people, let alone sang!_

_She must have realized how much she had scared me as she immediately continued: “I’m so sorry. I was here already when you came running in. You didn’t look like you wanted to be bothered, so I just let you be. I usually come in here to read just because it’s the quietest place in the school.”_

_So not only had she heard me play, but she had also seen my panic. Things couldn’t get any worse, could they? For a long time, we just looked at each other, trying to figure each other out. I had seen her in the halls before, I realized. She always seemed to be with Jane, that girl William was hopelessly pining for. But now that I was looking at her, I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed her sooner; she was absolutely beautiful._

_“Please don’t tell anyone what happened,” I finally stuttered. Stupid brain; that was all I could come up with? Really?”_

_Luckily, she smiled and laughed it off. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me,” she said. She stood up and placed her book on the chair she had been sitting on, then made her way over to me and sat down on the bench. At that point, we were both visibly nervous, but neither of us said a word for some time._

_Someone needed to break the silence, or else she’d eventually hear my heart beating through my chest, so I took it upon myself to speak up: “I hope I didn’t interrupt your reading.”_

_“Well you did, but I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” she replied. Her eyes were glued on the piano, I noticed, and her hand grazed over the well-worn keys with a sort of longing. “It was a worthy distraction.”_

_“Well, I guess that’s cause for some relief on my part,” I smiled at her but I didn’t think she noticed with her eyes still fixated on the instrument. Her distraction gave me time to think of a way of continuing the conversation, though, in all honesty, I found that I was quite distracted myself; in the afternoon light, her blonde hair seemed to shine like gold, and her striking green eyes were like emeralds._

_Eventually, I was pulled back into reality, knowing that if she caught me staring, it might not go over well. Finally, a question formulated and my mouth and brain started working together again: “Do you play?”_

_She dropped her hands to her lap and her cheeks turned a rosy colour. “Oh, heavens no. My mother never approved of me learning music,” she replied._

_“Well, she isn’t here now to stop you,” I pointed out, and with that, her gaze shot up towards me. Clearly, she was starting to put the pieces together. “I could teach you something small.”_

_Without a word, she nodded eagerly and a small smile spread across her face. Within a fraction of a second, I could tell that hers was a smile I wouldn’t forget._

_I positioned my hands on the right keys for the beginning of the song. “Here, place your hands over mine. We’ll play it together.”_

_She looked at me with some skepticism. “Are you sure this will help me learn?” she asked._

_“Well, this is how my mother taught me. She told me the best way to learn an instrument is to play it.” I could tell by the look on her face that she still didn’t seem to understand. “Just trust me, okay?”_

_She gave in and gently put her hands on mine, her sudden warmth enough to make her touch feel electric._

_“Alright, now relax your hands so they will fall with mine.” My voice was a little shaky from nervousness and it was taking all of my effort to get it to stop. “I’ll play the first few notes and then you can give it a try. Then you can judge my teaching strategy,” I proposed._

_The look on her face was evidence enough that she would certainly judge me, but I swallowed hard and began playing anyway. Slowly the first few notes rang out, her hands following mine. Concentration was the only way to describe her expression, as her eyes followed our hands while they moved like she was studying them. I soon stopped playing and put my hands back in the first position._

_“Now I’m going to remove my hands and let’s see how you do,” I said as I smiled at her. “Unless you’d like to go over it with me again.”_

_“Let’s see how this goes, then we can determine that,” she replied. There was a certain confidence in her voice that told me that she was a girl who was quite sure of herself._

_I pulled my hands out from under hers and she began playing. Her precision was astounding; she was definitely a fast learner. She made it all the way through what I had shown her without missing a note._

_“Looks like my mother was right,” I said with a triumphant smirk, knowing I had won._

_“I suppose so,” she replied as she looked at me smiling, undoubtedly overjoyed with her accomplishment._

_I put my hands in a resting position on the keys and without a word, her hands joined mine. “Is this your way of telling me that you want to continue?” I inquired._

_“Why don’t you find out?” she prompted._

_With that, the song went on the same way, with me leading and her following without hesitation. It was like a dance, as if we were talking without saying anything. To me at least, it felt like something the poets wrote in the books we read in class._

_It was at that moment that I realized that we had been in that room together for God knew how long and I still had yet to ask her name._

_“You know the bell is going to ring soon,” I said as she finished playing the last bar of the song. “And I actually feel quite embarrassed about this now, but I realize I never introduced myself. I’m Gustave Destler.”_

_She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and looked down at her feet. “It looks like neither of us has any manners, now do we? My name is Lara,” she said._

_“Is there a last name that goes with that?” I asked, unsure as to why she seemed more nervous than she had been a moment ago._

_“Yes, yes, of course there is. It’s Thomas,” she stammered, but I knew better than to ask; I knew from experience that when someone was visibly nervous, you didn’t ask them why._

_“Well, Lara Thomas, hopefully, we can do this again. Maybe even tomorrow, perhaps?” My palms were getting sweaty and I wasn’t sure what to do with her lack of reaction so I kept talking: “Unless of course, you’re busy, I completely understand. We cou-”_

_“Tomorrow works perfectly,” she replied, “I look forward to it, Gustave”_

_She packed her things into her backpack and began her way to the door. She had almost made it out when she turned and came back to me, then did something I never could have dreamed of: she hugged me. Once she let go, she left the room quickly._

_Taking my heart with her._

~

I was almost giddy just thinking about how we met; any thought about Lara made my heart swell three sizes, for that matter. "So that's how we met. She was beautiful then and is even more so now. We were just friends for a time, but...we've recently started courting. I'm actually going to her home tonight to meet her mother and father," I said. "Please don't freak out, Papa. I would have told you sooner, but everything was still so up in the air and-"

"I'm not upset about that, don't worry," my father said. "I figured that a young lady would come around eventually. What I am upset about is that you only mentioned this dinner now! You are nowhere near ready to go out. You still can't tie your own tie properly, for goodness' sake! When do you have to leave?"

I glanced at my pocket watch. "Half an hour..." I said with a sheepish smile.

"Oh, dear god. Go to your room and pick something out to wear. You have people to impress tonight."

I smirked as I walked to the door of Papa's study. "You never met the parents of a young lady. How are you supposed to coach me through this?" I inquired.

"I've no idea. We'll figure this out together. Now go!" he said as he got to his feet and ushered me out of the study, busying himself with clearing up our sheet music.

I walked into my room and opened the closet door, looking at each pair of dress pants, each jacket and shirt, trying to formulate an outfit idea. Papa was right; that night was to be my first impression on Lara's parents. I had to make it a good one if I wanted our relationship to move forward. The outfit had to be clean, sophisticated...handsome.

I was quickly distracted from my task at hand when a sparkle caught my eyes from the end of the closet rack. I pushed aside the other hangers and felt a smile creep onto my face when I pulled a black cloak with crystals on the shoulders and down between the shoulder blades out of the closet. The black, wide-brimmed hat sitting on the closet shelf caught my gaze soon after, and I assumed they came as a set. I slipped the cloak onto my shoulders and put the hat on my head, then looked at my reflection in the mirror and laughed.

"Papa, come here!" I called.

"Gustave, you had best be dressed or I- where did you find that?" Papa began as he walked in.

I whirled around to face the doorway, feeling the cape billow around me. "It was in my closet! It definitely isn't mine, so by process of elimination, it was yours. When on earth were you wearing this?" I asked.

"As you should have gathered by now, my outfits went through interesting phases over the course of my life." Papa walked over and snatched the hat off of my head, then set it back in the closet. "Not that you'll be wearing it, so you can just put that back into the closet now."

I smirked and pulled the cloak off of my shoulders and threw it over Papa’s instead, then shoved him in front of the mirror. "It still suits you," I said with a laugh.

Papa sighed and straightened the cloak on his shoulders. "It doesn't work if it isn't a complete set," he mumbled as he stepped towards the closet and retrieved the hat, placing it on his head.

"You actually wore this?" I asked.

"I had my reasons," he replied quickly.

"Which were?"

"None of your business." He slipped the hat off and tossed it onto my bed, then pulled the cape off of his shoulders with a quick flick of his wrist; a gesture that told me that he had done that many times before, but I kept that thought to myself for now. "You aren't dressed yet - why?"

"Well, I've been having fun with your sparkly cape." I shot him a wide grin, but that didn't do much to deter an eye roll from Papa. "But I won't take long!"

"You better not be. I won't let you be late to your first dinner with this young lady's parents," he said as he stepped out of the room. "Now, get dressed and get downstairs."

"Right." I gave him a nod and shut the door behind him, then turned back to my closet.

_Now. What would Lara love?_

_~_

"Papa, does this look alright?" I asked as I walked into the sitting room, fixing my collar and straightening my shirt all the way. "I want to look formal and all, but I still want Lara to like it and I want it to fit the style I like and...oh, I just want everything to go alright tonight."

"And it will. Just be yourself, be respectful and act as you would around any other adult the first time you meet them," Papa advised, putting down the book that he had been reading - _Arabian Nights,_ I noticed - and walked over to me to straighten my tie. "You'll be fine. Now, all the best. Get out of here before you end up later than you are already."

I smiled and gave him a hug. "Thank you, Papa," I said as I pulled my shoes on and opened the door. "I'll see you later tonight. I'll tell you everything, I promise."

* * *

**_ERIK_ **

As soon as the door closed, I turned around and made a beeline up the stairs to my study. My mind was running at a million miles a minute; my son had a sweetheart? He was meeting her parents? I wasn’t sure how all of that had happened, but what I did know was that I was too anxious about it to deal with it on my own, so I phoned someone who could.

_“Hello?”_

“Gustave has a sweetheart,” I said quickly.

 _“Well, good evening to you too, Erik,”_ Nadir replied, already sounding rather amused by the entire situation. _“Did you say Gustave has a sweetheart?”_

“Yes, I did say that. He has a sweetheart and I just helped him get ready to meet her parents over dinner.”

_“My, my. What an interesting development. How are you coping?”_

“You know I’m not,” I said as I glanced down at my desk and caught sight of a pencil, which I was quick to pick up and start twirling between my fingers. “I don’t know what to think of it all.”

 _“Do I need to come over?”_ Nadir inquired.

“Yet to be determined. Never mind me, though - how was your day?” I asked.

 _“Are you going to drive yourself mad by overthinking the ridiculous ways things could go wrong all night?”_ He had totally ignored my inquiry, but he knew me well enough to recognize when I was only asking questions to change the subject.

I managed a breathy laugh, amused that he even had to ask. “You know who you’re talking to, right?”

_“I should come over, shouldn’t I? To keep you grounded and prevent you from composing an entire opera out of stress?”_

“To compose a stress-induced opera would result in a masterpiece, not a disaster. I should be alright, though. I just needed to talk to you; you’re my friend.”

 _“Are you fidgeting like crazy like you do when you’re nervous?”_ Nadir asked.

“No,” I said immediately, dropping the pencil onto the floor and starting to fidget with my fingers instead. “What makes you think I fidget with nerves?”

_“I don’t think; I know. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”_

I heard the line cut off as Nadir hung up the phone, which left me alone with my thoughts again - when did Gustave get so grown up? Was I a bad parent because I didn’t know anything about the relationship until he told me? Should I have let him go so easily?

“No, no,” I said quietly to myself. “He’s old enough. He can make these decisions.”

With that, I picked up my pencil again and fidgeted with it all the way to the sitting room. I tried to immerse myself in my novel once more, but even the fictional whimsy of that wasn’t enough to keep my mind off of Gustave.

As soon as I heard the knock on the door, I abandoned my book and hurried to open it. “Nadir. Good to see you,” I said as my friend stepped inside.

“You as well,” Nadir replied he took one glance at my hand before quickly adding, “You are a horrendous liar.”

I was slightly taken aback by the abrupt statement, albeit not shocked to hear it from him. “What? Lying about what?” I asked.

Nadir sighed, clearly fed up with me for some reason that he found to be quite obvious. “Erik, look at your hand.”

Following his instruction, I glanced down at my left hand, which was still rapidly tapping the pencil against my index finger; totally subconsciously, I might add.

“Ah. That,” I commented, only for the fidgeting to intensify along with my anxiety after a flaw of mine was discovered. “I suppose I did lie about that, but a minor thing. Thank you for coming, Nadir.”

“You know I would have come either way,” he replied as he walked into the kitchen with me close behind. “And by the looks of you and your anxiety, you need me here. Now, do me a favour...” Nadir grabbed the pencil from me and set it down on the countertop. “Stop with the pencil twirling. I can’t keep a train of thought when you do that.”

“Sorry, I know. I’m not trying to spite you for once. I’m just anxious.” To compensate for the loss of the pencil, my fingers started to twitch; clenching and unclenching, balling up into a fist. Any method I could use to calm down, I tried.

“I know you aren’t. Now, you need to give me all of the details that you have about this young lady friend of Gustave,” Nadir said as he took a seat at the dining table, but I knew that I wouldn’t be able to keep still, so I ended up pacing in front of the table. “Her name, what she looks like. Who her parents are, her interests. All of that.”

“Well, her name is Lara Thomas, but he didn’t say much about her looks besides gushing over how beautiful she is. What I do know is that they met in the music room at school and Gustave is already completely head over heels for her,” I explained with a sigh. “A Destler trait, I suppose; when we fall for a woman, we fall hard.”

“A shame I wasn’t here earlier. I could have mocked him for being so hopelessly in love with this young lady.” Nadir smirked a bit, clearly pleased with his newfound way to pester my son.

“Aren’t you kind,” I said dryly. “The boy’s first real time courting and all you want to do is pester him about it.”

“I had just as much of a role as you did in raising him, therefore I have earned the right to pester him about romance. Just as I have earned the right to pester you endlessly about the khanum, despite you having a thick skull about it.”

I shook my head, amazed that he managed to circle back to that particular conversation topic. “I still don’t totally believe you, you know,” I said, determined to defend my case.

“Now why would I lie to you?” Nadir inquired, sarcasm lacing every word he said.

“For the sake of boosting my confidence, perhaps? As good friends do?” I suggested.

“Well, let me think...no, that doesn’t sound like something I would do, friends or not. You know I just enjoy a good chance to poke fun at you.” Nadir smiled to himself and got up to pour himself some water, giving my shoulder a pat on the way. “It wasn’t unknown to people - it was constant chatter among the guards. They all knew. Many wondered if you would get the hint and do it, too.”

“Well, we all know the answer to that,” I mumbled as I stole Nadir's seat at the table. I was supposed to be ending the discussion! How did he find ways to keep it going?

A smirk formed on the Daroga’s face. “Alright then. Whether younger Erik would agree with that outright ‘no’ or not is up for debate, but if you say so,” he said.

“You may as well stop trying to hide your smirk. I know you’re amused. And to correct you: a **much** younger version of me,” I replied.

“Your life is amusing, what can I say?” Nadir replied, shrugging and sipping his water. “But with every word that you say, you prove the thought that you would have acted on it! You were younger and you were a virgin. Who was to say if you were in the mood or really drunk that you wouldn’t have done anything about it?”

“Alright, alright, thank you for highlighting my romantic inexperience. Now, can we cease the discussion, please?” I requested.

Nadir raised his hand in surrender. “We don’t have to discuss yours; we can discuss your son’s instead.”

I chuckled. “Somehow that’s better,” I said.

“Much so. Now, did he seem nervous? Or are you more nervous about this than the boy in the relationship?” he inquired.

“Oh, I believe nervous is an understatement, to say the least. Sadly, he seems to have inherited my anxiety about the littlest things,” I admitted with a sigh. “That was one of the many things I wish he hadn’t taken after me. His mother was so courageous, confident.”

“Well, did you talk to him a little? Calm the old nerves?”

“I did, but not that it proved to be all that helpful. It was a conversation that required advice about romance and women; subjects that I am not well-versed in. I got lucky with Christine, and I still haven’t the slightest idea how it all happened.”

“Yes, pep talks have never been your strength,” Nadir said as he took a seat at the table again. “Although you do try your best.”

“Thank you for the encouragement. Does wonders for my self-esteem,” I sighed as I ran my hand through my hair. “You know how high that is to begin with.”

“It will be fine. Gustave will be fine and you will be fine as well,” Nadir promised. “While flirting isn’t your strength, being relatively charismatic always has been, and Gustave seems to have inherited that as far as I can tell.”

“I appreciate that, Daroga. Charisma - one of my few redeeming features,” I mumbled. “I know it will all go well for him tonight. I was just hoping I still had at least a little bit of time before we jumped headfirst into this stage of his life.” It was amazing to watch my son grow into a man before my eyes, but it still managed to tug at my heartstrings in a way that I hadn’t thought possible.

“Well, Erik, he’s a teenager. They tend to get into relationships when they’re in secondary school. You needn’t worry about it; it’s only a step in his life, albeit a big one.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Even with that knowledge, I’m still anxious about it and it is probably going to stay that way.”

Nadir nodded. “I know; once you get yourself stuck on an idea, there’s no changing your mind. Do try to relax, though He’s mature, he’ll be fine,” he said.

I narrowed my eyes in my friend’s direction. “I don’t think either of us uses the word ‘mature’ to describe that boy on a regular basis,” I pointed out. “He’s my son. At the age that I am, I still wouldn’t call myself mature, so you can forget my eighteen-year-old son.”

“Fair, but false at times. You ought to get used to sweethearts, Erik. Maybe this young lady - Lara, I think you said - won’t be the one for him,” Nadir replied.

“Don’t plant that thought in my head,” I groaned as I looked down at my hands, whose fidgeting had finally ceased. “I suppose now we just wait for him to come back and hear how it went.”


	8. Never Wanted to See You Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gustave runs into a ghost from his past that he never wanted to cross paths with ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updated 11-10-20

**_FEBRUARY 1915_ **

**_GUSTAVE_ **

When I arrived at the house, I had to double-check the note Lara had given to me with her address. Needless to say, I was shocked by the beautiful three-storey manor that stood before me, and it went without saying that it did nothing for my nerves. Nevertheless, I couldn’t be late. First impressions were everything, weren’t they? I made my way up the front steps and knocked on the heavy-looking door. I straightened my tie and jacket one last time before the door opened. A sweet-looking lady appeared, her deep red curls meticulously tied back and complemented by the dark colours in her evening dress. 

“Hello there. You must be Gustave. Please come in,” she said as she stepped aside to let me pass through into the foyer. “I am Lara’s mother, Marguerite. It’s lovely to finally meet you.”

“I assure you, the pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Thomas,” I replied. 

Lara had come to the front hall just in time to hear her mother burst out laughing after I spoke. She had gone pale and I couldn’t hide my obvious confusion brought on by both reactions. 

“So is that the name she’s using now?” her mother asked in between laughs. 

My confusion only seemed to intensify as I looked between the two ladies, silently praying that I would receive a proper explanation at some point that evening. “You’ll have to forgive me but, what do you mean by that?” I inquired. 

“Oh, of course. Lara doesn’t want to be treated differently at school because of her family name, so she rarely gives her real one,” her mother explained, still seemingly finding the entire situation much more entertaining than I did. “Though I thought she would have told you her real one, considering what I’ve heard about your relationship.” 

“I see.” I was only looking at Lara at that point, but she couldn’t seem to look me in the eyes. I could tell that she wasn’t going to say anything, so I posed my question to her mother instead: “Well, if that is the case, I hope you don’t mind me asking what your family name is?” 

“It’s Chagny,” Lara said, finally having decided to speak up. In all honesty, though, after hearing what she said, I wished that she hadn’t said anything at all. I felt my heart sink to my feet, the blood drain from my face. I must have heard her wrong; that had to be what happened. There was no way Lara was from that family, it just couldn’t possibly be true. She was the opposite of that family name, of _him._ It made no sense to me that she could be even remotely related to him. 

I only half heard her mother when she asked me to follow her further into the house; my feet moved but my mind didn’t, as if I was some sort of automaton. Lara walked by my side, but I couldn’t look at her, could make no move to take her hand as I normally did when we walked side by side. I still wasn’t sure what to make of the entire situation. I felt a sting of betrayal and pain in my chest that I couldn’t seem to shake and she was the last person I wanted to be the cause of that. 

Eventually, we arrived in a sitting room of sorts, where I saw two men sitting in the corner by a table with some drinks. One of them had their back turned and didn’t seem to be fazed by our presence; the only thing I could see was his blond hair. The other man, however, was in the complete opposite position, facing us straight on before he walked right up to me and shook my hand. He was blond like the other man with a mustache and thick sideburns to match, while his sharp blue eyes seemed to pierce right through me. 

“Hello there. So you’re the boy that my daughter is so taken with,” he said. He had optimism in his voice as he spoke, which was more than I had in my whole body at that moment. “My name is Philippe de Chagny, and this is my younger brother, Raoul.”

The other man turned at the mention of his name and I stopped breathing for a moment or two. At that moment, I locked eyes with a man I hadn’t seen since I buried my mother. In a way, he was exactly like I left him; with a glass of whiskey in his hands.

“Are you alright, Gustave? You look pale,” Lara said, and I noticed her face was painted with concern, her warm hand welcome against my cold, numb one. Once I was finally able to look at her and really see her, and I could feel myself remembering how to breathe. Though I hadn’t seen her walk up to me, her being there seemed to help me refocus on what was happening around the room. I nodded in response to her in order to calm both her nerves and my own. The Vicomte appeared to have rejoined reality as well just in time for all of us to be called for dinner. 

We were all in place at the dinner table within moments and I couldn’t help but gawk at the beautiful design of everything in the room. The symmetry of the moulding on the walls was astounding, and everything from the colours to the furnishings seemed to fit together so perfectly. Papa would be like a child on Christmas morning if he ever saw it; I found myself thinking of all the things he would point out. Not that I believed he would ever come to visit once he found out whose family lived there. Those thoughts helped to distract me from the fact that the man I loathed the most in the world was sitting across from me and the girl I cared about more than anyone was next to me at the same time. The first dish of the meal was eaten in silence; one could cut the tension with a knife, but only he and I truly knew the source of it. 

“Have you been reading the paper, Raoul? All this nonsense going on with Germany and Belgium,” Philippe asked his brother, who obviously couldn’t care less, given that his reaction was a simple shrug of his shoulders. Even I, a seventeen-year-old boy, was more interested in what was happening on the world stage than him, apparently. 

It was no surprise to me when Lara inserted herself into the conversation: “With things as tight as they are, it will only take a small spark to set off some form of large scale conflict.

“Hardly a suitable subject for a lady,” the Vicomte chuckled, obviously underestimating his niece’s intelligence. She had made a completely valid point, yet he clearly wasn’t planning on paying it any attention.

“One must first master the ways of a gentleman before he attempts to remind a lady of hers, don’t you think?” I inquired. I had to say something. He needed to know that I would not be pushed around, that I was not a scared little boy anymore and I was ready to fight for who I cared for. However, my comment brought silence over the room. Clearly, nobody had been expecting me to speak as forcefully as I had. 

After a long silence, it was once again Philippe who made the effort to create a conversation out of thin air: “So Gustave, what are your plans for the future?” 

“Well, one day, I hope to take over the business that my father owns,” I replied with a small smile. “I already work closely with him so I can learn from him.” 

“He runs a business now. How quaint,” Raoul mumbled under his breath. He seemed to be trying to maintain a running commentary without my knowledge, but I heard him regardless. 

“Interesting. What does he do?” Marguerite inquired. 

“He owns an architecture and design company. He started it when I was about eleven.”

Once again, a mumbled remark came from the man across the table. I wasn’t able to make out most of it but the beginning was clear: “Of course that devil does.”

I wanted to say something so badly, but somehow, Lara beat me to it: “Is there something you’d like to contribute to the conversation, Uncle Raoul?”

“No, I don’t. And I’d appreciate it if you stayed out of this,” he snapped at her. The anger in my chest was getting to the point of boiling over. I needed to say something to him or I’d lose my mind, but I was well aware that I had to do my absolute best to keep a straight face on for the table. 

“Well then, your mother must have her hands full with two like-minded men at the dinner table every night,” Lara’s mother remarked with a little laugh. I knew that she meant no harm by it, but I could feel the jab at my heart at the mention of my mother. 

“Actually, my mother…well she’s no lo-“

“She’s dead, Marguerite," Raoul said rather abruptly. That man truly did have a death wish, it seemed, and he would not have to look far to have it fulfilled. 

Everyone was shocked...well, of course, everyone besides me. They just looked between myself and Raoul for what felt like an endless amount of time. Someone had to say something, but it wasn’t going to be me because I knew that if I did speak up, I would end up saying things that would probably lead to me not being welcomed back to Lara's home. I was seething; the lack of feeling was unimaginable for a human! How could he have just blurted that out with not even a hint of sadness or regret or any emotion?

Lara must have seen how angry I was getting because she took my hand under the table and rubbed her thumb in small circles on the back of my hand. She seemed to be the only thing keeping me grounded tonight. 

The silence persisted particularly near Philippe’s end of the table, I noticed, but finally, Marguerite asked the question that was obviously on everyone’s mind: “How do you know that?” Such a simple question, yet it allowed for so much potential chaos. Not only did he begin to panic, because he must have realized what he’d done, but Philippe seemed to start growing uneasy as well. 

“Well, you see, Marguerite, I was…well-” he began. 

“He was married to her,” I said, repaying the favour of cutting him off. Though I had been enjoying watching him stumble, it felt a bit like karma for what he had done to me only minutes before. He glared at me as though he wanted to bury me on the spot, and although I was doing the same, the look did bring back some unsavoury memories. 

“I was about to get to that if you had given me a moment, Gustave,” he said through gritted teeth. He was getting angrier by the second, but from what I could tell, he wouldn’t lay his hands on me. Now that I could, I would make sure he never touched me again. “What did I teach you about interrupting me.”

“Nothing that I have to listen to now. You had no parental rights over me in the first place! Though it’s not like you were much of a father,” I retorted. If it was to be war between us, then so be it; he had no power over me anymore. “And I’m surprised you remember our time together at all. Most of my memories of you involve a bottle of some kind.”

“Well, well. Look who finally developed a spine.” He was smirking, and looking at it, I almost wished he’d go back to scowling. “Seems like I did influence you after all.”

“And it looks like you still choose to live in a drunken fantasy. The only lasting influence you’ve had on me is in my nightmares. I’d like to make the same thing clear that I did at Mother’s funeral - I never wanted to see you again.” 

“I suppose the feeling is mutual, my boy.” The words were practically spat out of his mouth, and I could feel my rage returning. 

“Don’t you dare call me your boy!” I exclaimed. I was exploding and it felt so good. There was so much I didn’t get to say the last time I saw him; so much I had wanted to say but didn’t have the words to do so. “You lost all rights to me when you left me and Mother on Coney Island. You have no right to act all high and mighty now because I know what you are really like behind closed doors. I did not come here for you and I did not come here to hear you mumble insults about my father, so get that through your thick skull.”

I hadn’t realized it but I had gotten out of my chair in the middle of my verbal attack, my hands balled into fists at my sides. Once I had gotten everything out of my system, I was able to look around at the faces of the people around me, but doing so only made my heart sink; Marguerite was horrified and Philippe was awestruck, while Lara’s face was painted with such confusion that it hurt me to look at her. I had never meant for her to see that part of me. 

_There goes any hope of a first impression,_ I thought as I sat down, my eyes glued to my plate. I couldn’t bear to look at anyone at that moment. The same silence from before fell heavy on the table, with nobody being quite sure how to react to what had just happened. 

Lara was the first to speak, but I knew it would be her. She hated not having the answer or being left out of the loop of information: “Could someone tell me what just happened?” 

“It is none of your concern,” Raoul said through gritted teeth. I was tempted to stand up and finish what I’d started at the funeral, but I felt I had done enough at that point. “Like I said before, stay out of this.”

The way he looked at her...I couldn’t do it anymore. I knew that look; he had given Mother that look, he had given me that look, and I knew what it was designed to do. I still had nightmares about that expression and the fear that followed. Now he was doing that to her, and that was the last straw. I may not have been able to protect my mother but I damn well was going to protect Lara, no matter what.

“I need some air. Lara, would you show me back to the front door?” I requested. A lame excuse, to be sure, but it was the only way that I could think of to try and get us both away from the table at the same time. We both stood before I took her by the hand and we left the dining room. No doubt her parents and Raoul would be discussing the outburst the second I left, but I didn’t care; all that mattered was getting her out of that room. 

When we finally made it back to the front hall, I let go of her hand and spun her to face me, then gripped her forearms and ran my eyes up and down her frantically. “Are you alright? Has he ever laid a hand on you? I swear if he has, I will kill him,” I said firmly. 

“What are you talking about? Who are you talking about?” she asked as she looked at me like I was positively mad. 

“Please just answer my question,” I pleaded out of sheer desperation. I needed to know that he had done nothing to harm her because, in all honesty, I didn’t think I would be able to control my actions if he had. 

“Gustave, please. I still don’t understand.” She was searching my eyes for answers to her questions. She looked afraid, and rightfully so; my thoughts were beginning to scare even myself. 

With a deep sigh, I realized she was asking valid questions and knew I had to clarify if I wanted an answer. ”Your uncle. I need to know if he has ever threatened to or has ever laid a hand on you.”

Her face was still painted with confusion as she looked down at her arms, then winced. I hadn’t followed her gaze and gasped; I hadn’t noticed my grip on her arms tightening. Immediately, I let go and stared down at my own hands in fear before my knees buckled and I was on the ground. 

“I am no better! I am no better than him. Who am I?” I whispered to myself. My hands were shaking and I felt a stray tear fall down my cheek. I had vowed never to be like him in any way, but it seemed I had done a horrid job at preventing that. 

Within seconds, Lara had joined me on the ground, but I couldn’t find it in me to look her in the eyes as I said, “I’m sorry. I am so sorry.”

“Gustave, it’s okay. I am okay,” she whispered back, wiping the tear away with her thumb. “What’s wrong? Please tell me.”

Still unable to meet her gaze, my wave of emotions took away my filter and I simply blurted out the first thing that came to mind: “The problem is that I love you, but I hate him and I don’t know what to do.” 

There was a pause before she spoke again, her voice breathy: “You...you love me?” 

Fully registering what I had said I was able to reply without a doubt: “How could I not?”

“I love you too,” she replied, her hand resting on my cheek. With that, she leaned forward and kissed me. My heart grew wings and flew away at that moment; time slowed to a stop and all that mattered in the world was her. Everything that had happened leading up to that moment suddenly seemed pointless. A warm feeling spread through me right down to the tips of my toes. Everything was perfect. 

We separated a moment later but kept our foreheads pressed together. “Now, please tell me what happened,” she said softly, brushing her thumb against my cheek. 

Her plea was so full of emotions I couldn’t describe that I could no longer deny her the answers she was after. “Alright, I’ll give you the shortened version of the story. Your uncle and my mother were married, and despite his own belief for years, that man is not my father. Not long after I was born, he took up drinking and gambling, he became less patient and developed a short temper. When he was in an especially bad mood, he would get violent towards my mother and me. He had abandoned us the night my mother was killed; he is ultimately responsible for the chain of events that lead to her death. 

“Lara, I love you, but I will never forgive him. The things he did to us still give me nightmares. The only way I will ever forgive him is if he is able to apologize to my mother and I am able to hear her response for myself. Though I doubt they would ever meet; I don’t believe they would allow the devil himself into the realm of angels.”

She had no response for what felt like forever. Instead of speaking, though, she stood up, helped pull me to my feet, then took me by the hand and began walking back to the dining room. I wanted to ask her what she was doing but I knew the look on her face; that was the look she wore when nobody was allowed to stand in her way. 

We walked right back into the dining room and without missing a beat, Lara stepped right over to her uncle and looked him dead in the eyes as she gave him a demand no person could easily ignore: “Get out.”

“Excuse me?” he stumbled out, flabbergasted at the direct orders he had been given. Philippe looked just as confused, but stayed silent, almost as if he had no desire to reprimand his daughter for what she was doing. 

“Lara, what on Earth are you doing?” Marguerite asked, obviously quite shocked. She had clearly never seen that part of her daughter before, but I had and I knew better than to distract her. 

“I will explain later, Mother,” Lara replied, still not breaking eye contact with her uncle. “Now, I know you heard me properly, so get out.”

“So you’ve chosen your beau over your family,” Raoul sneered as he stood from his chair and began making his way to the door. “Word to the wise, my dear; be careful with that lot. To them, love doesn’t always mean they’ll be faithful. Isn’t that right, Gustave? Your mother certainly proved that.”

“How dare you!” I exclaimed, about to go after him for that comment, only to stop when Lara put her hand across my chest to stop me. 

“He isn’t worth it,” she said softly. 

I felt my heart calm down and the red leave my vision as soon as he left the room and I heard the front door close. “You’re right, love. He isn’t,” I replied. 

The two of us turned around then to see the confused faces of Lara’s parents; Marguerite looked appalled, while Philippe seemed baffled, yet I thought I saw a glimpse of something in his eyes...was that pride? Even still, I knew there would be a flood of questions and I had a lot of explaining to do. People said you didn’t get a second chance at a first impression. 

I sincerely hoped they were wrong.


	9. Promise Me You Won't Be Mad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he gets home, Gustave needs to be honest about the night he just had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updated 11-10-20

**_FEBRUARY 1915_ **

**_GUSTAVE_ **

Life was but a dream as I left the carriage and walked up to my front door. I couldn’t get over what had happened. How could such simple words make me feel lighter than air? I couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off my face. I heard every love song I had ever known playing in my mind and they all seemed to be written for her.

After much explaining, I was able to clear things up a little bit with Lara’s parents. I could only hope I hadn’t made too big a fool of myself. They seemed very understanding of the circumstances, Philippe in particular. Yet again, he gave me the impression that he knew more than he was letting on, but there was no time nor was there a reason to dwell on that now. She loved me - she kissed me! - and nobody could take that joy away from me.

I walked inside the house to find Papa in the kitchen washing dishes; he had seemingly had company as well. He turned around when I walked in and a smile spread across his face which immediately told me that I was about to be bombarded with questions about my evening.

“Well, you look absolutely giddy. I take it things went well for you tonight,” he said. I could tell he wanted to mock me but I really couldn’t care less. I wanted to tell him everything…and in that second, the full scope of the evening came into view. I had to explain her family relations to Papa. I knew there was only one way he would react, but knowing him, it would be easier to talk about the good things first.

“Well, there were developments,” I replied, trying to dance around the subject as long as I could. 

He scrunched his eyebrows together, clearly getting tired of waiting. “What kind of developments?” he queried.

“Both good and bad.”

“Well then, let’s start with what’s making you smile so much.” Thank god I was right and he had asked about the good things first. I still hadn’t come up with a viable way to approach the subject of the bad news.

“Oh Papa, I don’t think I have ever been this happy,” I began, a warm feeling filling my chest as my mind went back to that beautiful moment when she kissed me. “She told me she loved me, and then she kissed me! Oh, now I understand how you must have felt with Mother. It’s like the world just makes sense! I feel truly alive, like I’ve only been in some mundane version of reality this whole time.”

He gave me a pained smile, but it was a genuine one nonetheless. I knew that bringing up Mother was a risky move, but I knew he would understand my feelings for Lara if I did. I hadn’t been able to see their love in action, but I knew that my Mother had been the light of my Papa’s life, and now I felt that very same love for myself.

“Yes my boy, it was just like that,” he said quietly. “I’m very glad you found the woman who does the same for you.”

“It was absolutely perfect,” I said with a content sigh.

“Well, you’ve generated a rather contradictory statement for yourself, haven’t you?” he asked as he laughed a little at how lovestruck I probably looked. “You also mentioned some bad developments. What would those be? Is everything alright?”

Dear lord, he just could not let things go! I should have known better. “Well, before I explain what happened...I need you to promise me you won’t be mad.”

“I promise nothing,” he said simply, making me sigh. Again, I should really have known better at this point.

“Fine then. Lara is related to a certain family that neither of us is very fond of.” I didn’t want to say the name unless he said it first; it could easily be a trigger for him sometimes.

He immediately looked more focused, almost like a dog that had caught a scent. I could see the anger in his eyes and within seconds, it was like a force emanating off him, though he was surprisingly calm as he spoke, but somehow, that made him even more frightening.

“Gustave, please tell me that you’re not referring to _that_ man,” he said, a seething tone to his voice.

I saw no way around it besides just being upfront. If I tried beating around the bush now, he’d lose patience even faster. “He is her uncle,” he confirmed.

“I don’t want you to go to that house again,” he said firmly as he turned to leave the kitchen.

I felt my stomach flip when I heard him. “Papa, let me try and explain what happened,” I pleaded, begging him to listen, but he had already begun walking away.

“This conversation is over, Gustave. I want you to end things with her and I don’t want you mentioning her or her family in this house.”

“You don’t get to walk away from me!” I yelled at him. I hardly ever raised my voice with him, and I didn’t want Lara to come between us but if that was where things were going, then that was what had to happen.

“There is nothing left to discuss,” he said simply, his back was still turned as he resumed his walk down the hall towards the stairwell.

“There is plenty,” I said before I walked right up to him and grabbed him by the shoulders, then turned him around to face me. “Papa, I love her.”

He scoffed at me. “Really? I seem to remember you mentioning that her last name was Thomas. That is evidently not the case, since none of that man’s sisters married a man with that name - I know enough about him to know that,- so she’s lied to you from the beginning. What type of love is built on that?”

“If you would stop being so stubborn and actually let me explain, you would know the details,” I said with an exasperated sigh. He was behaving like more of a child than I was and it was growing rather tiresome.

“Do you not remember what that man did to us? To you? To your mother? How could you even consider associating yourself with that monstrosity of a man, let alone his family?” he demanded.

“Believe me, Papa I have not forgotten,” I said through gritted teeth. “I am the one who still sees it all! Every single night! That man haunts me to this day!” I couldn’t believe him! As if I could ever escape those memories! I could feel my own rage building up inside me once more. He spoke like he was clueless about nightmares from past horrors, which I knew he wasn’t. Did he think that I hadn’t heard him waking with a cry in the middle of the night from dreams about the past that he wouldn’t share with me? That I hadn’t looked into his room and seen him pacing back and forth, trying to control his shaky breathing? He was clearly more oblivious than I thought.

“Then why on earth are you running around with hearts in your eyes over his niece?” We were face to face now, him still looking down at me though we were only slightly short of eye level with one another. We had never fought as intensely as we were before, but it was as worthy a cause as any for me.

“Maybe because I am listening to my heart. Perhaps it's because when I am with her, I am able to forget what has happened. She makes me feel like more than I am, an even better person than I am now.”

“And is that worth forgoing your family? Is she really worth the choice?!” Papa demanded. He was ready to explode as well, but that was the problem with us fighting; both of us were stubborn and short-tempered, which made things go too far too quickly.

“She’s already done the same for me!” I exclaimed.

At that, he turned and started going up the stairs again, clearly trying to escape the conversation at hand once more. “We are done here, Gustave,” he said sternly.

“Dear god, Papa, look at me!” I cried. He actually turned around which shocked me; I had thought he would just ignore me and just storm off. “Not everything must be dictated by facts and logic all the time. Some things cannot be controlled. A true composer should know that better than anyone! You’ve taught me the entire time that you have been in my life and you said you had told Mother the same, but with the way you’re talking now, it seems that you lied to both of us and I hate you for it!”

He said nothing, but his expression and the way he flinched slightly when he heard me said it all. It was still one of anger, but that was quickly fading into heartbreak and shock. He obviously hadn’t been expecting me to be so forceful with him or to use such strong words, and honestly, neither had I. Without a word, he climbed the stairs and closed the door to his room and, seeing no other option, I did the same.

I tossed and turned in my bed all night, barely sleeping at all. Papa and I had never fought like that. Sure, we had our little disagreements over the years but most of them had ended with a quick solution. We’d never gone to sleep angry with one another, and I had certainly never said that I hated him; I never would have thought of doing that if we hadn’t been fighting that way we had been. I knew that if Aunt Maddie had been here, she would have hit us both over the head for being foolish and demanded that we apologize.

I just couldn’t believe he was asking me to choose! It had been just the two of us for so long; we meant the world to each other, which I suppose was where that demand was coming from. On top of that, we hadn’t had to worry about the Vicomte in ages, only for him to return and come between us. He had hurt us both so much; it wasn’t fair that he still had that type of power.

But for Papa to place the blame on Lara for something she had no knowledge of was not only cruel to her, but to me as well. He was the one who had always told me not to judge someone by their past and that was exactly what he was doing...and it wasn’t even her past.

* * *

After a sparse, restless sleep, morning came and I had to face him. I took my time getting dressed, hoping I could be late enough that I could just run out the door for school and avoid conversation. No such luck, though; it seemed some form of higher power wanted us to finish what we had started.

He was in the kitchen making breakfast when I got downstairs, but he didn’t turn or acknowledge me when I entered the room. I had to stand my ground - I needed to make sure he knew I was capable of being serious about the matter at hand. He had to realize how much she meant to me.

“Good morning, Papa,” I said quietly, barely even looking up as I packed my school bag. That was when he decided to look at me, and I noticed that he looked a lot like I did; it seemed he had gotten much sleep either last night if the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes were any indication.

“Good morning, Gustave,” he replied with a noticeable pain in his voice. Neither of us liked it when we fought and last night was undoubtedly our worst. I could feel my resolve crumbling quickly as I looked at him. We had both been out of line and we knew it.

“I’m sorry,” we said simultaneously, which got a small smile on both of our faces. We truly were similar to a fault. We both opened our mouths to continue, but he let me start.

“I hate us fighting Papa, I really do. I’m sorry I yelled at you, and I apologize profusely for saying that I hate you because that couldn’t be further from the truth. I love you so much, those were angry words. On the true topic, though I don’t regret the other things that I said.” My voice may have lacked confidence but I had to make sure he heard me regardless. “I love Lara and I don’t want to have to choose between the two of you. I was able to forgive her for lying about her family and I hope you’ll accept that that is who she is. But please remember that she had no part in what happened to us.”

“You’re right, Gustave. I absolutely despise it when we fight as well. I never should have given you that ultimatum. I suppose I haven’t changed much,” Papa replied. I frowned a little when his voice cracked with that last statement, but I managed to contain my confusion. After a slight pause to collect himself properly, he continued: “What I meant to say last night - or rather, what I should have said - was that the world didn’t want me to be with your mother and I refused to listen. You are my son so I should have expected that stubborn streak to be ingrained in you as well. What I saw on your face when you came home was like looking at my own reflection of when I first saw your mother. She’s special if she has you doing that. Don’t let go of that.”

I walked up to him then and hugged him tightly, as he looked like he really needed it. He never liked to bring up Mother, so I knew it stung for him to talk about her. It always had and probably always would be a sore subject for us both. “I’ll try my best,” I said softly, smiling when I felt his arms wrap around me to hold me close to him.

We let go of one another and ate our breakfast together, but shortly after that, he noticed the time and said that if I didn’t leave soon, I might be late. As soon as he got the idea in his head, he started pushing me and my backpack out the door, saying that he wanted to hear the full story about last night when I got home from school.

* * *

As soon as I arrived at school, William was at the door waiting for me, just as he always did. I said hello to him, but he wasn’t who I was looking for; instead, I scanned the crowd, looking for a certain blonde ponytail.

The bell was going to ring soon and I was close to giving up hope that I would see her before lunch. That was when my eyes locked on her; she was coming up the main stairs with Jane. I told William to give me a minute before we made our way to our class, and without even waiting to hear a reply, I practically ran over to her. I picked her up and spun her around, leaving her reasonably shocked when I set her down.

“What on earth, Gustave?” Lara asked, laughing slightly as she looked around frantically to see if anyone was staring but I didn’t care; they could stare if they wanted, but it didn’t change a thing. 

I took her hand and leaned over slightly to whisper in her ear: “ _Je t’aime_.” Simple words, yet they made her face go bright red. I hadn’t seen her do that since we first met. She had one of the biggest smiles on her face and I knew I had the same. I whispered to her again: “Shall I meet you in the music room?”

She didn’t even respond verbally; she just nodded. We were lost in time for a moment, just looking at each other, but then the bell rang and brought us both back into reality.

“Gustave, we’ve got to go, come on!” I heard Will call from a few feet away.

Lara seemed to get her words together when she heard him, as she said, “Well, I’ll see you at lunch then.”

She started making her way to class, but she must have forgotten her hand was still in mine. When she was at arm’s distance, I pulled her back to me and kissed her. When we parted, her face had returned to the blushed state it had been a moment ago as I replied, “I certainly hope so.”

We walked as far as we could together, hand in hand, until our different homeroom locations made us separate. Even as we went in different directions, though, we held on for as long as possible, never wanting to let go of each other and glad to know that we would never have to.


	10. How I Met Your Mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recounting the tale of the Phantom of the Opera.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updated 11-12-20

**_MARCH 1915_ **

**_GUSTAVE_ **

The tension had finally cooled completely in our house after the heated argument between me and Papa. Though I could tell that he was still fairly skeptical about Lara and her family ties, I knew that my newest plan would hopefully help him get over that. 

"Papa, you aren't busy tomorrow evening, right?" I asked as I cleaned up my lunch dishes and brought them over to the sink. 

"I'm always working, but unless Nadir stops in to play cards and pester me endlessly, I'm free," he replied from where he still sat at the table. "Why do you ask?" 

"Just to make sure that you'll be here to meet Lara and her parents when they come for dinner." I winced a bit, waiting for an outburst because I hadn't told him earlier or asked him first. Although, in my defence, Lara had only asked me the day before at school, so I hadn't had all that much time to tell him. 

"They're coming here?" Papa inquired. 

I turned around and nodded at him. "Her parents, Marguerite and Philippe, were asking to meet my father, and Lara really wants to get to know you. I've been teaching her about music and she loves history. I think you two will get along quite well," I explained. "Please don't be upset that I didn't tell you, Papa. Lara and I only just made the plans yesterday, so I was going to tell you at some point."

"Gustave, I'm not upset. Just relax." Papa was smiling at me, but I could see the nervousness and hesitancy in his eyes. He still wasn't too keen on Lara's family; the Vicomte may have left, but he was still wary of his older brother and sister-in-law. "I would be happy to get to know them. Lara, in particular, considering you speak so highly of her." 

I felt my cheeks heat up quickly at that remark and heard Papa laugh a little at my expense. "Well, I love her. What can I say?" I replied sheepishly. 

"I know, I'm only teasing," he said. "Now, how has school been? You had that important math test just the other day, did you not?" 

"Yes, and I think it went well, although I say that now and it probably didn't go all that well," I admitted, scratching my head as I spoke. "But besides that, I signed up for the talent show that's coming up." 

That piqued my father's interest, thankfully drawing his attention away from the possibility that I didn't do well on a test. "Did you? What would that talent of yours be, hm?" 

"Well, I wrote down singing as my act, unless you object to that." 

"No, that's not what I meant. You play the piano, sing, and have other various talents. I just didn't want to jump to conclusions like I usually do," he said in his defence. "What is it that you're planning on singing?" 

"I haven't the slightest idea," I admitted as I sat down next to him. "I was hoping you might have some suggestions for me." 

"Well, not off of the top of my head, but I have a folder of sheet music in my study. Go flip through it and see if anything catches your eye. It's a dark blue one." 

"Thank you, Papa!" I bounced out of my chair and hurried upstairs, already knowing exactly which desk drawer the composition folders were kept in. I looked behind the red folder that held Papa's opera and found the blue one that he had told me to look for. I sat down at his desk and opened it, only looking up when he walked in the door and leaned against the desk to watch over my shoulder. 

"Well, we're off to a good start," I remarked as I pulled out the first piece of music and found it covered in ink blotches and scratches. I could barely read the title. The first word was scratched out beyond recognition, though the second word looked almost like ‘beauty’. "Why is this one all ruined, Papa?" 

He groaned when he saw it. "Put that one back. My biggest mistake from my Phantasma days,” he said. 

I realized I could tease him with that comment and jumped at the chance. "I thought I was your biggest mistake," I said, my face expressionless and a hint of false pain in my voice. 

Pain and regret painted his face for a split second, only to be replaced by annoyance and amusement soon after. "First off, that kind of self-deprecating humour is my thing, so stop it. Secondly, 'mistake' is far from being the word I would use because you are anything but a mistake. More like...an accident. A happy accident," he replied, giving my face a gentle pat. "Poor planning on my part, really; entirely my fault. Not your fault, not your mother's. Were there precautions that could have been taken? Yes. Did either of us think of that at the moment? No. We should have, but we ended up with you, so all is well! Why can't I stop talking?" 

I laughed at how flustered he was getting about the topic that he was so quickly approaching. "Papa, I know how it works." 

"Good, so I don't have to explain anymore! Now, put that thing back where it came from and never take it out again." 

"Alright, alright." I set that particular composition aside and pulled out the next, then frowned at the title. _"Think of Me?_ That's from _Hannibal,_ you didn't write this. Why is it in here, Papa?" I asked. 

"A memory. Your mother made her opera debut with this show, this aria. Just a little momento of her - our - first triumph," Papa explained as he took the composition and read it over. "You could perform this if you did it in your range and if we practice plenty. You could make your mother proud." 

He was quickly lost in his memories, humming the aria as he read over its sheet music. I knew that was his favourite performance of Mother's that she had performed for her record, so I left him to his music while I moved on to the next composition. I found that the notes fit comfortably with my range and I'd never seen it before, so I gave it a try right there and then: _"Past the point of no return..."_

"No, no!" Papa practically threw the aria from _Hannibal_ across the room as he moved to grab the music from me, but I turned away. 

_"No backward glances. Our games of make-believe are at an end,” I continued, paying no heed to his words._

"Gustave, that's enough," Papa begged. His face was bright red, a shade I had never seen it turn before. "Just leave that one." 

I smirked and quietly read the words to myself. "Wow, Papa. Risque," I teased. "Who did you sing this one with?" When I received no reply from him - just more blushing - I made my guess: "You and Mother sang that, didn't you?" 

"I...It wasn't meant to be me initially, but yes. Christine and I ended up performing it. It was a part of my opera." 

I frowned at that. "Your opera? You said it was performed at the Opera Populaire because you submitted it as a composer. How were you in it?" 

Papa groaned quietly, but looked at me, his expression a mix of countless emotions that I could tell he was struggling to figure out how to explain. "Gustave, I recall you saying that your mother told you the story of the Angel of Music. Of **her** Angel of Music,” he said. 

"Yes, that was always my favourite story that she told me. I used to wish I had been able to meet him, but she said that he disappeared before I was born." I smiled, amused by my childhood desires. "I believe Mother with all my heart, but sometimes I think she made parts of it up to entertain me." 

I noticed a sad smile appear on Papa's face. "For one, she was right; he did leave before you were born. For another thing, as probably the person who knows that story best, outside of her and her father, I can report that all of it was true." 

"But that was just a story her father told her," I argued. "There was no Angel of Music." 

"Oh, there was, _mio soldatino._ I was the Angel of Music,” Papa said quietly. 

My mind felt like it was exploding and I dropped the sheet music in shock. I had heard the story for as long as I could recall, only to find out years later that the Angel of Music that I had longed to meet was my father! 

"It was you?!" I breathed, then paused as I realized. "You did leave before I was born..."

He nodded. "It was a story that her father told her. I made it a reality...to a degree," he explained. "I was already residing at the Opera House when Christine arrived. I had become known as the Phantom of the Opera. During the building process, Charles Garnier - my friend and the head of the project - gave me his blessing to make the fifth cellar my residence. I had been kicked out of countless inns because of my face, so I took advantage of the fact that I had given some input on the Opera and built myself a home beneath it. I kept to myself, letting no one see me and frightening a ballerina now and then. Nothing harmful. Life was quiet...until your mother arrived. 

"She was a ballet dancer, as I'm sure you know, and her father had recently died. I was immediately in love with her, and when I heard the tale of the Angel of Music, I took on that persona. I had hoped to bring her comfort, to make it so her father’s last promise could be fulfilled, as well as to teach her to sing. Her voice had an almost overwhelming potential; it just needed to be finetuned." 

"Papa, you said you lived beneath the Opera House. How was it that you taught her?" I inquired, quickly getting more and more invested in the story of how my parents met. 

"I mastered the art of ventriloquy in my youth, so I could project my voice to make sure she heard while still keeping myself out of sight. I'll teach you one day," he promised with a wink. "Eventually, though, I revealed myself to her. It was after her debut in _Hannibal_ and she was in her dressing room, speaking with..." he trailed off, almost as if he were being selective about what he told me. "With another ballerina and being wooed by the Vicomte. Naturally, that angered me and I made that known to her, but she apologized and begged to finally see me. I was in such a state of love at that point where I could deny her nothing, so I agreed and brought her to my residence beneath the Opera House. 

"There, I sang her the very song that I put in your music box. The one that I turned into a lullaby for you. It was a song I shared only with her and you; I intend to keep it that way. At least for now." 

I nodded. "That makes sense. It's special; I understand why you'd want to keep it in our family. What happened next, though? I can only assume that meeting your teacher who lives under the Opera House would be a lot to handle,” I said. 

"Indeed; a case of overstimulation. She ended up fainting, so I let her rest while I worked on my opera." At that moment, I watched his mood darken immediately. Whatever he was about to tell me was not a fond memory, that much I could tell. 

"Then, out of her own curiosity, she took off my mask," he said quietly as he straightened up and walked over to the window. I saw his fingers start to twitch; a dead giveaway that things were getting difficult to explain. He raised his hand to his face and felt the side that was normally covered by his white mask. It took a long time but he was finally comfortable enough to be around the house without it. But the story took place long before that, so I could only imagine the fear he must have felt. "I lashed out at her because I was so afraid of losing her. I finally had a connection with someone; I hadn't been so close to a person since Nadir and never had a woman been so sincerely invested in a relationship with me. I wasn't prepared to face the possibility of losing yet another important person in my life because of my face. Somehow, though...she didn't run away and leave me. She gave my mask back and looked at me with the same admiration that she always had. I realized that I finally found someone who could look beyond…my condition. 

"I took her back up after that, but I was not done with advancing her career. I wrote notes to the new insufferable managers, asking that she play the lead in the upcoming opera, leaving the Prima Donna, named Carlotta Giudicelli, in a silent role. On top of that, I requested my salary of 20,000 francs and for my seat in Box 5 to be left vacant." 

"And? Did they listen?" I asked. 

"No, no they did not. They cast Carlotta as the lead, didn't pay my salary, and sat in my box themselves. Those two had some nerve." 

"Well, it is a large amount of money, Papa." 

"Oh, the Vicomte was their patron. They had plenty," he retorted. "That money would have paid another musician in the orchestra that couldn't play to save their life. I would have used it to buy food and to get new shoes tailored."

"Alright, fair point," I admitted. "So what did you do? Did they get away with it?" 

"Of course not! Do you know me at all? I acted on my threat of disaster and Carlotta croaked like a frog during her performance. I then followed a rather frantic Christine and the Vicomte to the roof of the Opera, which was where my heart was broken. I heard her declare her love for the Vicomte, swearing to love him forever. I can’t recall any other time in my life where I could feel my soul shattering in such a way that it had that night. In my anger and hysteria, the chandelier was accidentally affected and it crashed. After that, I buried myself in writing my opera. The Opera Garnier saw and heard nothing from the Phantom for six months until I reappeared with my finished opera in hand at the masquerade held to ring in the new year." 

I gasped. "That's where you wore that god awful skull mask, isn't it?" 

"Exactly. The Mask of the Red Death. Why the managers threw a masquerade ball while being haunted by a **masked** man is beyond me, but it worked in my favour. 

"Christine was the lead in my opera - a character named Aminta - but the pressure grew too much, so she fled to visit her father's grave. I was there as well and I heard her pour out her heart in song to him, wishing he were by her side once more. Again, the love I had for her moved me to try and bring her to me for comfort, but the Vicomte arrived and ripped her away. 

"My opera was performed shortly thereafter. Don Juan was played by Ubaldo Piangi, Carlotta's husband, but he...fell ill, so I took his place. That was when Christine and I sang that song you found: _Point of No Return._ A sensual song, to put it simply. I wore a robe to conceal myself, but Christine realized it was me and revealed me to the audience; mask and wig off as well. I whisked her down to my dwelling, as I had to get both of us away from the mob chasing me for my head. Madame Giry, however, showed the Vicomte the way down, and Nadir wasn't far behind. He didn't intervene, but he saw it all. He was around the Opera House quite a bit when he realized that I lived there; once that I was in danger like that, he was on high alert. 

“Christine had a choice - Raoul or me." Papa's fingers were curling up again and his voice was strained when he spoke; he was trying not to cry, I realized. I got out of my chair and walked to his side then, setting my hand on the small of his back for support. Me being next to him seemed to have calmed him down a little. His fingers uncurled but I was slightly concerned when I saw a tint of red on his fingernails; sometimes he doesn’t know his own strength. 

"She kissed me. Twice," he breathed, a sad smile on his face and tears rolling down his cheeks as he reminisced. "It was then that I told her to leave. To make a life for herself with a man who could give her just that: a life." 

"Oh, how wrong you were," I mumbled. 

"Indeed, though I didn't know it then. Oh god." He was looking up now, trying and failing to blink away his tears. “If I had known then, I never would have let her go.”

I sighed and simply rubbed his back for a moment, giving him time to compose himself. Eventually, though, another question crossed my mind: "Hang on. If Mother left you, how did I... _oh._ ” 

Papa chuckled a bit, and I was relieved to see that I had managed to lift his spirits again. "You came to that conclusion all on your own, so blame yourself. But your conclusion would be correct. Sometime after those events, on the night before her wedding, she found where I hid. I wonder sometimes if Nadir told her; they were both equally concerned that I would die of a broken heart. Christine visited me to check in on me, and then, nine months later, our happy little accident arrived." Papa smirked and gestured to me as he spoke. "So that's it, then. That's how I met your mother." 

"Your story is unbelievable, Papa. How did you take it all?" I queried. 

"Her. Christine was my light, my life. Now, you have taken up that mantle,” he replied. 

I grinned. "I'm very privileged," I said before I laughed at my newest revelation. "My Papa is the Phantom of the Opera!” 

~~~~~

"William!" I exclaimed as I jumped off the third step of the stairs and ran to the front door, greeting Charles, Madeleine, and Nadir before turning to my best friend. "Will, I have a story for you!" 

"Okay...what is it?" Will asked. He looked very confused, my abundance of energy clearly baffling to him, though I didn’t know why; after our five years of friendship, I would have thought he would be used to it.

I opened my mouth to share the latest family revelation but glanced at Papa to see him shooting me a stern look. He seemed to be almost daring me to reveal his past as the Phantom in front of his friends. I knew that I would get an earful later if I said anything, so I looked back to William and smirked. "I'll tell you upstairs. Come on!" 

~

**_NADIR_ **

Madeleine laughed as William and Gustave hurried upstairs with plenty of gossip to share. "What do you think that was about?" 

"I have a slight idea," Erik replied. He looked over at me and I nearly burst out laughing. He looked incredibly unimpressed with his son, and it was then that I confirmed what the secret's topic was; the age-old tale of my best friend and brother in spirit, Erik Destler. The Phantom of the Opera. 

"And what would that idea be?" Madeleine questioned as she gave Erik a hug to greet him. 

"I'll explain that another time," he replied as he turned to give Charles a handshake. 

"You say that quite a lot, you know." 

"I'm not sure if you've gathered by now, but my life has been rather eventful." 

"Right, so enlighten us!" she exclaimed. "I'm sure it will make good conversation, Erik." 

"Dear God, Maddie, let the man have his secrets," Charles said, hugging his wife from behind. 

I smirked. "If he kept all his secrets, he would never say a word to anyone," I explained. "Even I wouldn't be involved in many conversations." I paid no mind to the glare Erik was giving me; I saw it enough, I was used to it. 

"Exactly! He's so interesting, Charles, what would you like me to do?" Madeleine asked. 

Erik laughed quietly; that was a sound I had grown quite fond of once I had started hearing it regularly after we had reunited. Having a son brought out the joy in him that I hadn't seen since Reza was alive, so it was refreshing to see it again. 

"Thank you for your support, John,” he teased. 

I sighed and shook my head, only for a laugh to burst out of me when I heard Charles reply, "My pleasure, Steve." 

Madeleine joined me in laughing at our friend's expense, and the baffled expression on Erik's face only made us laugh harder. "What did you call me?" he asked, chuckling through his words. 

"Steve," Charles repeated, trying to stay serious during the ridiculous conversation, even though a smile tugged at his lips. "My rebuttal to your 'John' comment." 

"Charles, allow me to remind you of something. I am a Frenchman, not an American. I may have come here from that insufferable country, but that doesn't mean I want to take an American name." 

"Fine then, a French name. How about...Raoul?" Charles proposed, throwing on a mockingly inaccurate French accent as he pronounced the name. 

I snorted, covering my mouth to hide my smile as I stared at Erik, whose expression was a mix of shock and mild irritation. "No, Steve is fine. Perfect, in fact! Just...never Raoul," he requested as he gave Charles a quick pat on the shoulder, then turned to walk to the sitting room. "Come in, you three. Sit down, make yourselves comfortable. I put out the tray with tea just before you got here, so it’s still hot." 

"So am I getting my story or not?" Madeleine inquired as she followed Erik and sat down in the armchair across from him. 

"The details of that story will come in time. If I told you now, I doubt you would believe me," he reasoned. 

"Oh, we'll believe you, just watch." 

"Well, you know, if you want an unbiased opinion, I was there," I revealed, sitting on the sofa with Charles. 

"What happened, then?" Madeleine asked. 

"Alright, I give in, I'm intrigued," Charles admitted. "Tell the story, Nadir." 

"What?" Erik said, looking at Charles in confusion. "I thought you were on my side for this one!" 

"Well, _Steve,_ like my wife said - you're interesting." 

"Erik, let me tell the story," I suggested. “It will go smoothly, I swear.” 

"I can tell my own stories, Nadir," he retorted. 

"First off, you know you don't want to. Secondly, yes, you can tell your own stories; just not properly." 

"I..." Erik paused, considering the statement with a sigh. "Fine. I'll just correct you every now and then." 

"I expect nothing less," I replied before I turned to Madeleine and Charles. "So tell me, you two. Did the rumours about the Phantom of the Opera ever reach London?" 

"I do remember reading something about it in the papers, but that was years ago," Charles replied. 

"Well, allow me to introduce you to the man behind the myth." I gestured overdramatically to Erik, who waved his hand a bit as he managed a smile. 

"Oh my god, that was you?!" Madeleine exclaimed. "The masked man who dropped the chandelier in the Opera House?!" 

"Guilty," Erik admitted. 

"Wow," Charles said with a nod. "I am close friends with the Phantom of the Opera. I'm not sure what to do with that information." 

"Charles, neither am I," I revealed. "I lived it and have yet to process it all." 

We fell quiet for a moment after that, the couple considering the information that they had just received about their friend. Eventually, though, Maddie piped up with a question that had been bound to be asked eventually: "Did you really kill people?" Her voice was small and timid, clearly not wanting to even imagine her friend doing such a thing. 

"My actions tend to be exaggerated. Just a spin on reality that the journalists used to sell papers," Erik replied, the lie flowing off his tongue like he hadn't thought twice about it. 

I looked over at him, my eyebrow slightly raised as, with my expression alone, I asked: _"Is that really the excuse you're going with?"_

He returned the look, although I could see the regret about lying to Madeleine in his eyes. _"Yes, it is and you will go with it too."_

"Were they really, Nadir? Just false headlines for the papers?" Madeleine asked. 

I figured she would ask me to verify the statement, but I had to change my answer to spare Erik any embarrassment in front of two of his closest friends. "That they were. Erik did some things, but the murder of random innocents was not one of them," I eventually said before I looked to Erik to communicate a message with my eyes once more: _"You owe me."_

_"I will never stop owing you."_

"So wait. Did he truly live beneath the Opera House?" Charles questioned, his gaze bouncing between Erik and me. 

"That I did," Erik replied simply. "Nadir was the only one who really knew for a fact that I was there for the longest time. Christine eventually found out as well." 

"You brought her there," I pointed out. 

"Alright, so I let her find out." 

"I can imagine she was in for quite a shock. The shock of a lifetime, one could say," Madeleine commented. 

"Oh, certainly. Your music teacher who you thought was an angel shows you that he's just a man in a mask, then takes you to his home in the basement of the Opera House...a lot to handle," Erik said. 

"She fainted," I clarified dryly. 

"Daroga!" Erik's eyes were wide and he blushed at the reminder that he frightened the woman that he almost married.

"What! It's true!" I exclaimed. 

"There's no need to be so blunt." 

"Erik. We would get nothing done here if I wasn't blunt about this." 

The roll of his eyes told me I had won the argument. "Fine, fine. Just get on with it," he grumbled as he propped his elbow on the arm of the chair and leaned his head on his hand. "This is already taking longer than I wanted it to." 

The snickers from Charles made me smirk. "Which direction would you like me to take this, then?" 

"Just talk. I will correct you if the need arises. Which has yet to happen, I'm impressed." 

"Well, Christine went back to the land of the living soon after that event," I said, ignoring the jab he'd made at me. "Erik was determined to make her the Prima Donna, so he pestered the lead at the time, Carlotta Giudicelli, endlessly to get her to leave." 

"Why? Could they not have just...shared the roles?" Charles asked. 

"Charles, what you fail to understand is that Carlotta did not share very well. Either she was the Prima Donna or no one was," Erik replied. "On top of that, she couldn't sing to save her life. She was kept on as the lead because of the manager's fear of losing ticket sales. In defence of my pestering, though, I had an agenda. I was in love and I wanted to see her fulfill her dream. I would have done anything." 

"Like drop set pieces, make Carlotta croak like a frog, and crash the chandelier," I commented dryly. I had seen too much because of this man, so none of those actions had really shocked me. It was a miracle I didn't have more grey hairs because of him. 

"Granted, my methods were extreme," he admitted. 

Madeleine shook her head, though her smile remained plastered on her face. "Dear lord, Erik. You never did grow out of that dramatic phase, did you?" 

"At this point in my life, don't hold your breath that I will," Erik replied with a playful wink at Madeleine. I had never actually seen him interact with his two new friends, so it was a breath of fresh air to see him so happy and relaxed. He had found his group of friends, which was something he had needed for a long time. 

"How on Earth have you raised Gustave?" Charles asked.

"Charles, one day at a time. With Nadir's help on top of that." 

"And me! I basically have two sons to take care of," Madeleine piped up. "Never mind you and Nadir on top of the boys." 

"Yes, yes, all of you have done much to help. I appreciate it,” Erik said. 

"You better appreciate it. You're helpless without us," I commented. 

"Well, now you're pushing it," Erik retorted with a grin in my direction. "Along those lines, though. Since we have all played a role in raising him, I feel like I should share a little update on his present relationship..." 

**_~_ **

**_ERIK_ **

"Tomorrow night, we're hosting Lara and her parents for dinner," I reported. "Gustave says I should meet them all, and considering how head over heels he is for her, I suppose he's right. It is a strange thought that my son has a sweetheart. Trust me, you two, you're never truly ready for your child to take that step." 

"Oh, I know I'm not ready," Maddie said with a giggle. "I think I'll have to get used to it, though, with the way that William talks about Jane." 

"It's bizarre! It makes you realize just how much they've grown up. On top of that, it makes you feel ancient, which only adds to me feeling that way when I'm friends with a young pair like you two." 

"Oh, don't do that to yourself, Erik. Although I would imagine it is quite strange. It's still scary on top of all that." 

"Scary or not, I'm just excited. I'm waiting to be a grandpa!" Charles exclaimed. 

I laughed as I sipped from the glass of whiskey that Nadir had just handed to me. "To think that within a few years, we could be grandparents." 

"Oh, they're still babies, give them time," Maddie scolded, sitting up in her chair to make herself a cup of tea. "I don't want William rushing into any of that." 

"You don't want Gustave to have a baby so young, do you, Erik? I mean, I know you waited a long time to have children, but do you want him to do the complete opposite?" Nadir teased. 

"You're hilarious, Daroga," I retorted, sarcasm lacing every word that I said. "When the time is right, I know he will make that decision for himself." 

"Oh! Speaking of right timing," Charles said before he dashed out of the room and into the front foyer. "I have something for my wife." 

Maddie smiled and glanced at the doorway, her grin only getting wider when her husband reappeared, his hands behind his back and a ridiculous smile on his face. "What are you planning, Charles?" she asked. 

"I would say it’s something romantic, but I wouldn't know," I admitted with a shrug. "Do continue though."

"Someone cover her eyes," Charles requested, gesturing to Maddie with his head. 

I stood up to walk over to Madeleine, but Nadir did as well. So I sat down to yield to him and let him go...but he did the same. I moved to get up again, but Nadir bounced up and pushed me down into my seat again. "I'll do it, for goodness' sake," he said as he walked behind Maddie's chair and covered her eyes with his hands. 

"Charles, is this necessary?" Madeleine inquired. 

"Yes, yes it is," Charles replied simply as he kneeled in front of his wife and placed a little box in her hands. "You can uncover her eyes now, Nadir."

As soon as Maddie could see, I noticed a sparkle in her eyes as she looked at whatever it was that her husband had given to her. "Charles, what is this?" 

"Open it." The man was practically bouncing on the spot with excitement. I glanced at Nadir to try and get an explanation, but he simply shrugged. 

Madeleine picked up the present - a velvet box, I could now see - and opened it, her jaw dropping as soon as she saw the contents. "Charles, is this..." she began. 

"Happy anniversary," Charles said as he leaned forward and kissed his wife. 

Nadir smiled at the pair and came back to his seat, raising his glass to them before he sipped his drink. I stared at the two of them, though it was more like the back of Charles' head and Maddie's face, and I couldn't help but feel a small pang of jealousy in my chest as I watched. I wished that I could have done the same for Christine; surprised her with a gift, celebrating the anniversary of our wedding. Knowing that she had that with the Vicomte and not with me angered me, but the joy in the room was so overwhelming that I couldn't help but smile. "Alright, the back of Charles' head is lovely, but I wouldn't mind knowing what gift was just exchanged," I remarked. 

"It's a necklace with our birthstones! Mine, Charles', and William's!" Maddie announced as Charles got to his feet to hook the delicate chain around her neck. 

I smiled as she walked over briefly to give me a better look at the pendant, which was a sparkling blue and white combination of aquamarine, pearl, and sapphire for Charles, Maddie, and William respectively; their birthdays had lined up in such a way that their birthstones complimented each other beautifully. 

"It's lovely. How sweet of you, Charles," I said. 

"So, it's your anniversary. How many years?" Nadir asked. 

"It's been twenty this year," Charles replied, sitting on the floor with his back against Madeleine's armchair, his head leaning on her knee. 

"Twenty years. Wow, Madeleine. You haven't killed him yet," I said, starting to applaud to celebrate her achievement. 

"I know, it truly is an accomplishment," she replied. 

"What did I do?!" Charles exclaimed. "I just gave you an expensive gift and you still make fun of me." 

Madeleine laughed and leaned over to kiss her husband's forehead. "I'm only joking. You know I love you, dearest." 

"Yes, yes, I know,” he muttered. 

"Well, with an anniversary like this, I believe stories are in order. How did you two meet each other?" Nadir asked. 

Charles laughed. "That's a funny story, actually," he admitted. 

"It really is. We were both seeing other people when we met for the first time," Maddie added. 

I gasped playfully, eager to pounce on another chance to tease the blissful couple. "Scandal," I said with a hand over my heart for added dramatic effect. 

"Oh, nothing that serious. We were on a double date with our respective significant others when we met and we just started talking. There was just an immediate connection,” Maddie clarified. 

"Our dates also seemed to be hitting it off fairly well, so Maddie and I just kept chatting," Charles added. "I ended up taking her home at the end of the night."

"Scandal!" Nadir repeated, chuckling through the declaration. 

I laughed and raised my eyebrow at Maddie while Charles glared over at my friend. "I took her back to her house to drop her off, in case I was unclear," he said through gritted teeth. 

"Well, the shade of pink that your wife's face has gone would suggest otherwise," I remarked, laughing when Maddie threw a pillow at my chest. "Am I wrong?" 

"Very," Charles said with a roll of his eyes. "As I was saying before you two formed your ridiculous theories, Madeleine and I talked for some time and got to know each other better. I knew from the beginning that she was the one for me, though." 

"I did too. There was just something about him that felt right. It was like some sort of unspoken agreement that told us, 'It feels right like this, so that's how we should be'. I mean, then I discovered that he has two left feet, but I kept him," Maddie commented, laughing when Charles looked back at her with a frown. 

"You two are adorable," Nadir said. 

"Aren't they? It's almost nauseating how sweet it is," I replied with a small grimace to add to my teasing. 

"Oh, hush. You asked for the story," Maddie scolded. 

"Well, technically, Nadir did and I ended up stuck along for the ride, but sure." 

"Come on, you two. You cannot seriously tell me that neither of you had little childhood loves when you were younger," Charles said. 

"How young are we talking?" I asked. I already knew the answer that I could potentially give, the little admirer that had captured my heart years ago but that didn't mean I was eager to talk about it. She still broke my heart to think about. 

"Any age," Charles replied with a shrug. "You two are older than me, you've had more time to have little 'crushes', as people call them." 

I cleared my throat, then downed my drink and got to my feet to top up my glass. "Nadir, why don't you go first?" 

"Erik had a crush!" Madeleine exclaimed, turning in her chair to watch me walk to the liquor cupboard across the room. 

"Maddie, don't be ridiculous," I said. I poured myself a drink and turned around, leaning against the bookshelf next to the cabinet I had just closed, which only exposed my flushed cheek to everyone. 

"Oh, he definitely did. Just look at how red he's turning!" Charles exclaimed. "It rivals the blush on his mask!" His comment only embarrassed me more, and I felt my face heating up more than it already had. I cursed myself silently for wearing a different mask; who needed variety in fashion when the usual made life so easy? 

"Come on, Erik, who was the lucky lady?" Maddie prodded, smiling when I simply shook my head and sipped my drink. 

"Well, I don't know about lucky, but there was a lady, yes," Nadir piped up. 

Every head in the room turned to face Nadir, mine included. I panicked slightly, as I had totally forgotten that he knew the story. It made sense, though; I had screamed and sobbed over her in my delirious poisoned state when we were in Persia. 

"Nadir," I said quietly, trying to stop him before he even got started. 

"You know!" Maddie cried. 

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't," Nadir teased. 

"Don't you dare, Daroga," I warned, a newly aggressive tone to my voice. 

"Or what? You'll pull out your lasso?" 

"Try me." 

"Lasso? What are you—" Charles began, only to be cut off by Maddie covering his mouth with her hand. "Excuse me?" 

"That's an irrelevant detail, dearest! Come on, Erik, let's hear the story!" Maddie begged.

"Alright, fine, fine," I said, giving in to the pleading look in her eyes. "I want no interruptions from you, though. Do you understand, Nadir?" I pointed a finger at him, only for him to shrug his shoulders.

"No promises. You were allowed to interrupt when I was storytelling, why shouldn't it go both ways?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Fair. Anyhow, this story. I was a teenager when I met the young lady in question. I had left home when I was nine," I began, waving off the concerned expression that appeared on Madeleine's face. "My mother and I didn't get on well, long story, don't bother asking. I had ended up with a travelling gypsy circus after that, but when I left that behind, I was in Italy. I soon ended up under the wing of an architect named Giovanni, who just so happened to have a daughter named Luciana." It was strange to say her name again; it had been decades since I had said it to anyone. That time didn't change the pain that something as simple as a name brought with it, though. 

"This is already sweet. The whole thing sounds adorable," Madeleine remarked. 

I laughed quietly. "Perhaps it was. She was a feisty young girl who knew what she wanted when she wanted it, but was very pretty. I was quite taken with her at the time, and it turned out that she felt the same way. Even with the mask."

"What happened, then? If you were both so infatuated with each other," Charles queried. 

I scratched the back of my head as the topic that I had wanted to avoid arose, as I had known it would. "Well...circumstances took me out of Italy. With a face such as mine, I couldn't stay in one place for very long; people started to talk. So I left as I knew I had to. Maintaining a relationship at a lengthy distance was not easy at the time, what with the telephone not existing just yet, so...things didn't exactly work out,” I explained. 

"That's a shame, Erik," Maddie said sadly. 

"Have you heard anything from her since then?" Charles asked. 

"Uh, no, I...I haven't actually. The last I heard was that Giovanni had passed away about a decade after I left Italy, but even that news came through the papers. That was the last word I received of the family." What a miraculous lie that was! I had indeed heard of Giovanni's death, but I didn't lose touch with her because of distance, but because of death! One that I had caused...

~

_"Just take off the mask!" she screamed. "Let me see!"_

_"Please don't—" I pleaded, my knuckles going white from the grip I had around the small spade I was using to tend to the flower beds that she had neglected._

_"Erik, just do it," Giovanni ordered, his voice firm. "Take off your mask and put an end to this ridiculous fantasy that my child has created!"_

_My whole body was trembling, but I knew that I could not disobey Giovanni. He was the only father I had ever known, so how could I defy him, even if that meant revealing myself to the girl who had captured my heart? With shaking hands, I reached up and slipped the leather mask from my face, then looked up at Luciana._

_Her eyes went wide with fear, an expression I knew all too well. Her mouth gaped and a scream escaped her as she began to back away, then took off running across the villa's roof. I stayed quiet as she ran, but both time and my heart stopped when I watched her fall through a weak section of the roof. It all seemed to happen in slow motion, as if God had wanted me to be aware of every detail leading up to it. I was to blame. Giovanni had left me in charge of fixing the fault and I had never gotten around to it. Once time resumed its normal pace, I ran to the hole in the roof just in time to be able to look down at her small, broken body on the ground two storeys below._

_I left Giovanni's care that very night. Leaving yet another piece of my broken heart behind._

~

"It was probably for the best, though," I admitted, trying to control the shaking in my voice. "I was only fifteen at the time; we were both too young. On top of that, I was not incredibly skilled in the flirting area of expertise, so it was probably best for everyone that we lost touch." 

"You still weren't very skilled at flirting when you met Christine," Nadir said flatly. 

"Look, I...I tried." 

"A little too hard, my friend."

"Well, something worked, didn't it?" I asked. "I have a son."

"I will give you that," Nadir said before getting a wicked grin on his face. "You know, Erik, you never did regale me with the story of your success with Christine. I believe you said it started along the lines of 'beneath a moonless sky'."

My eyes went wide when he mentioned it and I was quick to meet Maddie's gaze when she looked at me. "Erik!" she said through laughs.

"Nadir, enough," I said, begging him to put the subject to rest.

"I've missed something, haven’t I?" Charles asked as he looked between his wife, Nadir, and myself.

"Dear God, Charles. You are as slow as ice sometimes," Madeleine said. She gave her husband a look, eyebrows raised, and the code must have worked because Charles turned to me with a smug grin.

"Oh, I see," he said as he looked at me and winked.

"Can we please discuss Nadir's childhood loves?" I requested, covering my face with my hand as I made my way back to my seat and slumped down in it.

"Does this make you uncomfortable, Erik?" Nadir queried as he sipped his drink.

"Oh, I'm sorry, does my posture not give that away?" I asked dryly. "I don't want to discuss my...romantic life. Or should I say, lack thereof."

"Well, it seems like there certainly was one at this point," Charles remarked with a sly smirk. With a sneer, I grabbed the pillow that Maddie had thrown at me and did the same to her husband. The only difference was that it hit Charles hard in the face instead of in the chest as it had for me. 

"It's not that I regret it. In all honesty, it was something I'll never forget from now until I die, but I would just appreciate it if the subject changed. To put it into perspective, I doubt Madeleine and Charles would appreciate us discussing that aspect of their marriage," I reasoned.

Immediately, Charles cleared his throat. "So Nadir, did you have any childhood loves?" he asked.

I nodded. "That's what I thought," I mumbled as I lifted my glass to my lips.

"The only woman I ever loved was my wife, Rookheya, and she is the only woman I will ever love," Nadir answered. "Any young woman before or after her was a mere admirer."

"Good man," Charles said with a firm nod.

"What is she like?" Madeleine asked.

"Perfect in every way before she passed. Beautiful, smart, independent. The most kind-hearted woman I have ever met,” Nadir replied. 

"I am sorry to hear of your loss. Excuse me if this is insensitive, considering that comment, but you two sound so perfect for each other! Your wedding must have been beautiful,” Maddie said with a smile. 

Nadir laughed quietly, a fond smile on his face. "Indeed it was, as simple as it had been. Neither of us was extravagant in our tastes, and even with the position I held in the Persian court, we did not have much money at our disposal. Still, Rookheya looked like a goddess. So much so that I could not believe that she was mine."

I smiled, always happy to hear tales of Nadir's wife and Reza's mother, then turned my head and burst out laughing when I saw Maddie's gleeful expression. "Dear lord, look at her face!" I cried. "She looks like she might combust!"

"Shut up, I just love a romance story!" Maddie exclaimed. "Charles knows I do."

"Yes, I know you do, love, but your face is as red as your hair. Take a breath or two," her husband recommended.

I shook my head, unable to grasp Madeleine's excitement. "People make weddings out to be quite a remarkable thing. I've only ever attended one and there wasn't anything spectacular to report. Then again, I did get poisoned, so...perhaps that was a bad example,” I said with a nonchalant shrug. 

"Oh, but you've only been to one and you've never had one of your own! You can't base your opinion off of weddings that you've only been a guest at!" Maddie replied. I immediately started to smile, though, when she paused and my words began to register with her. "Hang on...poisoned!"

Nadir and I looked at each other as we started to laugh. "We wondered how long it would take you to notice," my friend said.

"What do you mean you were poisoned at a wedding?!"

"Oh, this story again. Really, Papa?" I heard my son say as I looked to the doorway of the room, still laughing with Nadir, and saw him and William walking in. "You need some new material."

"It came up!" I exclaimed in my defence.

"It always seems to eventually," he replied as he walked over and rested his folded arms on the back of my armchair.

"I think an explanation about you being poisoned is an order," Charles prompted as his wife nodded fervently.

I sighed. "Long story short, I was the magician for the shah of Persia. His new vizier was getting married and I despised him because he married the wife of his predecessor without giving her time to grieve. I sentenced him to death at his wedding, he poisoned me, I almost died. Content?" I said rapidly.

The next thing I knew, Gustave had leaned over on my left side and was staring at me. "That's why you wanted him dead? I thought you just hated each other!" he exclaimed, his volume making me wince.

"Well, now I'm deaf. Why are you so loud?" I asked, immediately putting my hand up to shut Nadir up before he even opened his mouth. "I know the answer is because he's my son, so don't even bother. Yes, Gustave, I did hate him. The woman was barely a widow for a week before he was looking her up and down. He was an animal, so I gave him what he deserved."

"People like that are disgusting," William said resolutely. 

"Indeed," Nadir remarked. "Neither of the shah's viziers was good men, but the second was certainly worse."

I looked back to Madeleine to see her still staring at me in disbelief. "You almost died?!" she shrieked.

"Well, given that I'm sitting here with you right now should imply that I didn't completely die," I remarked.

"That would imply that you are at least partially dead," Charles said slowly.

"Oh, trust me, Charles. That happened long before I ingested that poison,” I said, giving him a sly smile. 

"Okay, to change the subject from this story that I've heard too many times," Gustave said as he straightened up again, "Will and I were playing chess upstairs and I realized that he is a brilliant player. Dare I say brilliant enough to beat you, Papa."

I scoffed and looked at William. "Is that so? Well then, get the chessboard and we shall see," I proposed.

* * *

Our chess match had gone on longer than anticipated, but it had come down to the wire. The room was silent enough except for a quiet orchestral record playing in the background and everyone's eyes were locked on the chessboard as William moved one of his pieces. A few seconds later, he ended the silence: "Checkmate...checkmate!"

I frowned as I examined the board, shocked that I had seemingly just been defeated. "No, no. That can't be. I can still move...no...my god," I said before I lifted my eyes to look around me and it was quite a scene indeed. Gustave and William's jaws were seemingly locked open, Madeleine and Charles were laughing so hard that they were crying, and Nadir walked over to pat my shoulder.

"How does it feel for your undefeated streak to be broken by a teenage boy?" he asked.

"Shut up, I'm still trying to find a place that I can move," I snapped as I desperately scanned the board. 

Eventually, though, I came to accept that I truly was stuck. "Well. This has been a humiliating moment for me, but I am very impressed, William."

"Did I really just win?" William asked, his shock obvious.

I smiled. "Well done, my boy."

"I beat Uncle Erik!" William declared as he jumped out of his chair and gave Gustave a high five as they laughed. 

"We shall have to have a rematch," I said as I stood up and shook his hand. "I'm determined to redeem myself."

"No, I am retired!" he exclaimed before he rushed from the room and out to the front foyer. "Mother, Father, get me out of here!"

I smirked and raised my hand to keep Maddie and Charles where they were, then peeked into the foyer to watch William's reaction when I threw my voice behind him. "Oh, come on, William. One rematch," I said, my mouth never moving as I spoke, then glanced at Maddie, who was covering her mouth to muffle her laughter.

"No way! How did you do that?" William exclaimed. He turned his back to the sitting room's entryway, which allowed me to walk up behind him and tap his shoulder, getting him to scream. "Why?!"

"Oh, just a bit of fun," I replied with a smirk. "Now, at least give me a hug before you retire and disappear from the chess scene forever."

William was quick to do so, but he looked at me inquisitively as he pulled away. "How did you do that?" he asked.

"Do what?" I inquired. 

"That thing! With your voice!"

"Oh." I smirked and threw my voice behind him again. "This?"

"Yes, that! It's incredible!" William exclaimed. I chuckled as he turned to his parents, who had joined us in the foyer. "Did you hear that, Father?"

"I did. It's quite remarkable. How do you do it, Erik?" Charles asked.

"The same way I can make that little flower talk," I replied, chuckling as William looked at the potted plant at the shelf next to him. "Or..." I cleared my throat, “how I can make myself sound quite like a woman."

Charles failed to muffle his laughter, but I was more focused - and subsequently amused - by the starstruck look on William's face. "Teach me," he whispered. 

"Soon. I shall teach both you and Gustave. For now, you ought to get home, I said as I gave him and Charles quick handshakes. "Have a good night, you two."

I then turned to Maddie, who hugged me. "Promise me that you won't almost die again," she said.

"I won't make promises that I cannot guarantee to keep," I replied, only to wince when she smacked my shoulder. "Um...ouch?"

"Say it," she said firmly.

"Yes, I promise." I smiled at her and sent her on her way. She was such a small woman but could be quite frightening when she wished to be.

I walked back to the sitting room where Nadir was finishing his drink and Gustave was cleaning up the chessboard. "So Erik, this story about beneath a—" Nadir began.

"Nadir. Go home," I said.

He smiled and walked over to my side. "Alright, fine. I expect the story sometime, though."

"You shouldn't need to hear the story to understand how it worked. You've had significantly more experience with it than I have."

He laughed and stepped into the foyer. "Good night, Erik."

As soon as the door clicked shut, Gustave looked at me. "What was that about? Beneath a what?" he asked. 

"Nothing, absolutely nothing. Now, off to bed with you," I replied as I started to walk towards the stairs.

"Oh, Papa, just tell me!"

"Let a man have his secrets, Gustave!"


	11. At Last We Meet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik finally gets to meet the young lady who has stolen Gustave's heart...and her parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updated 11-12-20

**_MARCH 1915_ **

**_GUSTAVE_ **

"Papa! Stop running around like a mad man and look at me. I'm going to tell you something that you told me when I met them: calm down!" I said loudly. I stood in the kitchen and watched my father rushing around aimlessly, starting to act on one idea before changing his mind and starting on another. I had never seen him move so fast, but given those long legs of his, I wasn't entirely shocked.

He stopped and took a breath, shooting me a glare. "What do you mean, calm down?" he demanded. "I have to make some sort of meal for three extra people, all while trying to make a good impression on the parents of my son's significant other!"

"Yes, and?" I asked with a raised brow. "You wouldn't let me have a panic attack when I went to meet them for the first time. Why would I let you have one now?"

Papa did not look impressed. "Oh, stop with your logic and help me. What on Earth am I supposed to make for dinner?"

"Simplicity, Papa. There is no need to go all out for this; it is meant to be relaxed. Perhaps the pasta and chicken that you've mastered over the years." I had planned things out more than I cared to admit. I wanted the night to go well and for Lara and her parents to enjoy themselves, but I also knew how anxious my father could get.

He took a moment to consider that, then nodded. "Yes, yes. Simple, of course," he said as he opened a cupboard, only for his shoulders to slump when he did. "And we have no pasta. We are off to a brilliant start! Gustave, run to the store for me."

"Alright," I said as I walked into the front foyer to grab my coat and shoes. "But I'm not going back and forth, so tell me now if there's anything else that you need."

"Pick up something for a salad as well. Whatever you want, I have no particular preference."

"Anything for dessert?"

"Oh dear God, dessert!"

I snickered at my father's exclamation as I opened the door. "I'll think of something, Papa!" I called, stepping out and closing the door, then smiling at Uncle Nadir as he walked up the driveway. "Good afternoon, Uncle Nadir."

"And to you as well, Gustave," he said as he walked up the front steps and hugged me. "Where are you off to?"

"The shop. You know how Papa is when social scenarios are presented. He's an anxious mess about making a good impression and then panics until the last moment," I explained.

Nadir ran a hand through his hair, which was surprisingly still mostly quite thick and dark, with some grey in his beard and sideburns; surprising, since he had to deal with Papa and me all the time. "Ah, yes. The dinner with Lara and her parents is tonight," he said as he gave me a wink. "Don't you worry. I'll handle him."

"Thank you. I'm not sure what else to do. I tried to talk to him, which seemed to work for the moment, although I doubt it will last."

"Oh, it's probably already stopped working by now. You see, Gustave, your Papa is very much a visual learner. That comes with his remarkably creative brain, as well as his inability to hear an opinion that differs from his. So, to get a point across, you either show him your evidence or you knock the sense into him - literally."

"Well, don't hit him too hard,” I said with a laugh. “I need him for tonight.” 

"With that man, no promises can be made in that area. Anyhow, you just relax about tonight so you can enjoy Lara's company. Let me deal with your father and his anxiety," Uncle advised.

I nodded. "I'll be back in half an hour. Lara and her parents are due here in an hour and a half. Hopefully, Papa will have calmed down by then."

"If Allah is willing, perhaps."

I laughed, said goodbye, and started my walk into town, praying to God that my father managed to get it together.

**_ERIK_ **

When I heard the door open, I looked up from my vigorous scrubbing of the countertops to watch the doorway to the kitchen. "Gustave, you're back-" I began, only to pause when my best friend walked into the house instead of my son. "Oh. It's you."

Nadir scoffed and leaned on the same counter I was busy wiping down. "So you clean when you're stressed, do you?" he asked.

"A newly acquired habit," I replied as I shoved his elbow off of the counter so I could wipe that spot down, ignoring the glare he gave me. "Parenthood gives one some strange qualities and routines, does it not?"

"That it does." Nadir glanced over his shoulder into the dining room. "So what is the plan here?"

"I haven't the slightest! This house is a mess! How have I not noticed before?" My scrubbing only got more intense as my anxiety found an outlet in that action. "I don't know where I should start."

"I would suggest starting with the dining table, given that we'll be eating there tonight," he suggested.

"Oh, so you're joining us now, are you?"

"You know you'll be much more comfortable if you do."

I considered that and then realized how right he was. "True. Let's start with the table, then. Pull off the tablecloth and shake it off outside, I'll wash it later. There is a clean one in that cabinet,” I instructed while I tossed the washcloth into the sink and walked across the room. "I'll get the dishes out."

I opened up one of the kitchen cupboards and started to reach for my usual dishes, but hesitated, grabbing a boxed set of nicer china plates instead. I set them on the counter as Nadir walked over, the new tablecloth in hand. 

"Those plates are still in the box, sealed. Why do you even have them?" he asked.

I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know, to be honest. I had them since before I knew about Gustave. The people decorating my home put them in for me, just in case I had a moment of weakness and wanted company. Not that I had any friends at that point to have over for dinner, but no need to question it now; they've become useful to me," I replied as I grabbed a knife to cut open the box.

"Sure. I grabbed the serviettes from the cupboard with the tablecloths. Would you like to fold them into little swans?" Nadir queried. I put the knife down and looked at my friend, my eyes wide as I considered the suggestion, but Nadir shook his head. "It was a joke, Erik. You don't have time."

"Don't you think it would add something, though? A formal touch?"

"Do you know how to fold napkin swans?"

"Well, no, but..." I began. 

"So there is no point in even holding onto the idea. Now, go figure out what you're going to wear. Choose a suit and a mask. I'll handle the table setting,” Nadir replied, laughing to himself. 

I ran a hand through my hair. "What do I wear? I suppose I'll wear my mask with the blush, but what about my suit? I can't just wear this, can I?"

"Business casual, my friend. Do you have any other suit colours? A smoking jacket, even," Nadir suggested, only to frown when I shot him a baffled look. "So no, then."

"You should know the answer to that," I replied.

"For one, you should get a couple of smoking jackets. Dark gray and navy blue would look good on you. You have tuxedos and then your poet's shirts - no in between. Back to the matter at hand, though; go change into one of your tuxes. Freshen up and get back down here so you can work on dinner."

"Alright, I'm going," I said as I turned to walk to the stairs. "And I will look into those jackets as well. A little colour could be...okay, I suppose."

~ 

"Alright, let's figure out the table and-" I trailed off and stopped walking when I stepped into the dining room and found the table completely set. "When did this happen?"

"While you were upstairs. It worked out because I'm not panicking like you," Nadir replied as he joined me at my side with a glass of water. "Would you like candles as well? And what about wine?" 

"Wine?" I asked, mildly confused by the suggestion. 

"Yes, wine. That drink that people usually buy for dinners? It comes in red and white, generally?" 

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, I know what it is. I'm not completely useless, Nadir. I've made an effort to not have an abundance of alcohol in the house, though; my whiskey is about all we have. It brings up some bad memories for Gustave."

"Understandable. I only wanted to inquire," Nadir replied. "So what would the drink of choice be for tonight?"

"Water?" I said with an abundance of hesitancy in my voice. "Then tea afterwards."

"Water will do, I suppose."

I groaned and ran my hand over my face, brushing the nose of my mask as I did; I had become used to not wearing one at home, but I wasn't eager to frighten any visitors by accident that evening. "I only want this to go well for Gustave. He's found a young lady that he truly loves, and I want to ensure that this evening is a success."

"I understand and it will be fine. That's why I'm staying; to make sure that your anxiety doesn't consume you and make you say something stupid," Nadir said.

"Yes, that is much appreciated,” I said with a nod. 

I heard the door open at that moment just before Gustave walked into the room, two large paper bags in his arms. "Okay. I have what we need and there's a pie on the top of one of these bags. We are good to go!" he announced.

I took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay. Let's make this dinner happen."

* * *

"Well, that was exhausting," I said as I fell into my armchair.

"Indeed," Nadir agreed.

I glared at him. "You set the table and then watched Gustave and I run around the kitchen cooking."

"Well, of course. It was hilarious to watch you run around in your little apron,” my friend chuckled. 

I sighed and looked down at the red apron covering my clothes. "It is much brighter than my usual outfit," I admitted. “I would imagine it’s entertaining.” 

"Papa, something's burning!" Gustave suddenly yelled from the kitchen.

I mumbled a string of foreign curse words as I bounced up and ran out of the room. I found Gustave standing by the stove, staring at it helplessly, and it only took me a second to smell the same scent of burning food. 

"Gustave, take it off of the heat if it's burning!" I scolded as I moved the pot off of the hot element and looked inside.

"How should I know?!" Gustave exclaimed.

"It's logic, _soldatino._ Just hope that Lara knows how to cook if you get married because I will not feed you for the rest of my days on this Earth." I tasted the sauce quickly and sighed. "It tastes burnt, I'll have to remake it. Gustave, can you-" The words caught in my throat as the doorbell rang and another group of muttered curse words escaped me. "Go get the door, Nadir! Or you, Gustave! Just someone answer it!" I exclaimed.

Gustave hurried off and I quickly tossed out the burnt food, then threw the ingredients back into the pot. As I worked, I overheard the conversation from the foyer and my, was it entertaining.

"Good evening. I'm Philippe de Chagny," a man said. He already sounded more sophisticated and put-together than his brother; a relief to be sure. "A pleasure to finally meet you, Mister Destler." 

I managed to muffle my laughter; I could practically see Nadir trying to play that comment off and failing to do it well.

"Oh, no, this isn't my father; Papa is just in the kitchen working on dinner. This is my Uncle Nadir. He and my father have known each other for years," I heard Gustave explain. "To be fair, though, he is like a second father to me half of the time."

"Nadir Khan. A pleasure," my friend added.

" _Bonsoir, ma chérie."_ I couldn't help but smile when I heard Gustave's comment to Lara; the two truly were in love and no one could deny it. At least he wasn't as blinded by love as I had been; things might just work out for those two.

"You mentioned that your father was in the kitchen. Could we meet him?" a woman, who I assumed was Lara's mother, asked.

"He is, yes, but I think it's best if you just wait in the sitting room. He's quite busy and a little nervous, but he'll join us soon," Gustave replied.

"Tell him not to be nervous! We don't bite," I heard Philippe say. “But actually, Gustave, there is something I would like to discuss with you. Is there somewhere we could talk?”

“Of course, that is no trouble at all. Just come with me to the dining room. Could you please show the others to the living room, Uncle?” I could hear the tension rising in Gustave as he spoke, but it wasn’t a surprise; that type of opening to a conversation had to be the last thing anyone ever wanted to hear. 

“Right this way, ladies,” Nadir said as he confidently redirected the women, almost as if it were his house. I truly should be able to attach him to the tax files on my home and make him help out, considering he was here more often than his own home.

My attention returned to Gustave and Lara’s father as they walked into the dining room just a few feet behind me. “What is it you’d like to talk to me about, Monsieur de Chagny?” my son asked. 

“It’s nothing that serious, Gustave, please don’t worry,” Philippe replied. Clearly, he could hear the anxiety in Gustave’s voice just as well as I could. “I simply wanted to apologize for what you experienced in my home when you came over for dinner.”

“There is nothing for you to apologize for. I could not possibly hold you accountable for the actions of your brother.” Gustave had never fully explained what had happened that night, but scenarios started to run through my mind like wildfire. 

There was an uncomfortable silence between them for a moment before my son continued: “Is there something else?”

“Well yes, actually, there is. I would also like to apologize for not stepping in when I had the chance. You probably don’t remember me from when you were quite young, but I remember you. I can’t help but feel that I should have seen something and tried to do something for you and your mother.” Philippe sounded sincere as he spoke, which was something I was not used to coming from that family. 

“Once again, there is nothing for you to apologize for. You couldn’t have known. Mother was very private about everything, so I doubt anyone besides him will ever truly know what she endured.” Gustave was getting quiet and I knew what that meant; the memories. Whenever Christine was concerned, they would always resurface, and that was what he did when he remembered; he shut down and didn’t want to talk, which was uncharacteristic for someone who always spouted the first thing that came to mind. 

“Please, don’t feel guilty, I would not want you to needlessly weigh that on your conscience. Mother wouldn’t want you to either,” Gustave added. 

“Thank you, Gustave. I needed to let you know that. I should probably go rejoin the others,” Philippe said. 

“Feel free. I am just going to go check on my father.”

With that, Gustave strolled into the kitchen to join me, patting my shoulder. "They're here, Papa," he said as he surveyed the kitchen quickly. "And Philippe says not to be nervous, by the way.” 

"That much I heard," I retorted. "And the only thing making me stressed right now besides this damn sauce is you! So get out of here, I'll be there shortly."

"I give you a minute and a half."

"You will give me as long as I need. Just go be a host to our guests and let me focus, please."

"Can I at least taste the sauce first?" Gustave requested.

I sighed and jabbed my wooden spoon at him. "Get out of the kitchen. I will be there soon but go be with your guests. You left them with Nadir, you know."

Gustave waved me off. "Uncle Nadir will be fine. Now let me taste the sauce!" Before I could even react, he had dipped his finger into the sauce on the spoon and given it a quick taste. "It needs a little more pepper, Papa," he advised.

I rolled my eyes and raised the spoon in a non-verbal threat that had no merit, but it still got him to take off for the sitting room. Even still, as soon as he was out of sight, I grabbed the pepper and sprinkled a little extra into the pot.

I eventually finished the meal preparation and started to walk out to the sitting room, only to freeze and quickly start untying my apron. "That would be a good first impression, wouldn't it? To walk in with a stain-covered apron on. No, let's make this go over well," I said under my breath as I set the apron atop the counter and walked into the sitting room. I set my sights on Philippe first - blond, like his little brother, and had a thick mustache and sideburns, which breathed a level of maturity that the Vicomte simply did not possess. His eyes were a bright blue and were locked on me.

_Say something, you idiot!_ I thought. _Don't just stand there and stare!_

 _"Bonsoir, monsieur."_ I heard myself say the words and immediately bit the inside of my cheek hard. Of all the times for my nerves to kick in and for me to fall back on the language I was most fluent in, why right then and there?! I was sure that the unmasked side of my face had gone bright red by that point, which only made me even more self-conscious.

 _"Toi aussi,"_ Philippe replied as he extended his hand for me to shake.

 _"Tu parle français?"_ I queried, only to curse myself for the stupid question. Of course he spoke French - he _was_ French! But something about him living in England seemed to make me forget his heritage in my anxious state, it seemed. 

_"Un peu._ _Je suis venu ici quand j'avais 23 ans pour rencontrer et épouser ma femme,_ _alors ça fait un peu de temps."_

"Pardon me for interrupting, but would you care to include those who don't speak French?" Lara asked.

I looked at her and laughed nervously. _"Pardonnez..._ Pardon me. I was just asking your father about his background with French. English is not my first language, so I tend to fall back on my mother tongue at times," I said.

Lara smiled at me. "Don't worry about that. Gustave does the same thing when he's nervous," she said.

"And sometimes I do it just to annoy you," Gustave admitted.

"I know. It works."

I smiled as I walked over to greet Marguerite, who I would have never guessed was Lara's mother had I not been introduced to her already knowing that. Her hair was dark red and curly, and her eyes were a deep brown. Lara, on the other hand, looked much more like her father, with the same blonde hair and blue eyes. She was a beautiful young lady; it wasn't a shock that Gustave was so in love with her. 

"At last we meet, Lara. Gustave has told me much about you," I said as I gave her a quick handshake and smiled at the bashful look that appeared on her face. "Well then. Now that our introductions are in order, shall we eat?"

* * *

"I'm very glad you're tutoring Gustave in your math class, Lara. After his first couple of tests came back, I began to worry," I said with a laugh. The dinner had gone well so far; Lara was lovely and interested in learning more about music, her parents were easy to talk with, Philippe in particular, and Nadir was behaving himself as well. Everything was just fine.

"Of course, Mister Destler. With all that he's helped me learn, it was the least that I could do," Lara said with a smile - a genuine smile. She looked at me and smiled like the mask wasn't even there. That was something else that hadn't come up all evening - the mask! It was quite a refreshing change; one that I hoped would last.

The room fell quiet momentarily as my conversation with Lara came to an end, but Philippe was quick to fill the silence: "Erik, I'm sorry, I know you likely get this question a lot..."

I had spoken too soon about the mask.

"May I inquire about the mask?" he asked. There was a gentility to his voice that pointed to a simple curiosity that I was not surprised about.

I shot him a weak smile. "It is not a problem, Philippe," I said. "I was born with half of my face looking rather non-traditional. I wear this in hopes of not getting more stares than I already do."

"Well, I would say the mask makes you look quite dapper. It fits your whole...look very well," he replied. I understood that he was trying to lighten the mood, but it had only plunged the room into an awkward silence. He soon spoke again to change the subject, though, prompting me to silently thank God for doing me a favour for once and stepping in. "At our last dinner, Gustave mentioned that you were an architect, Erik."

"Yes, actually," I replied, shooting a side-eyed glance at Nadir to silently tell him to keep his silent laughing to a minimum after the comment about my mask fitting my 'look'. "I currently run my firm and I designed this very home."

"Oh? It's very beautiful, even if it is on the smaller side," Marguerite commented.

"To be honest, Madame, it wasn't designed with the thought of more than one person living here," I said. The comment had been a tad insensitive, though it wasn't shocking to hear. She did come from a privileged background, after all. Still, the remark was amusing; I thought that Gustave and I lived a fairly comfortable life. To her, I was wrong, clearly. 

"Had you intended to remain a bachelor, if I may ask?" Philippe queried.

"Well, given the nature of my visage, I never thought I would find someone willing to spend their life with me."

"I'm sure it can't be that bad," Marguerite said gently.

I noticed Lara glance at her mother, and while I appreciated the gesture, it did nothing to quell my anxiety. I felt Nadir's hand on my knee in an attempt to help me relax, and it gave me the confidence to speak up: "Madame, I'm afraid I would have to say otherwise. I have worn a variation of this all my life. My mother gave me my first one as an infant. So your statement is, unfortunately, a brutal understatement."

The room fell quiet again, but not the comfortable silence that was momentary between topics of conversation. No, it was the awkward silence that so often followed the honest statements that I made about myself. I had become detached from silence since becoming a father, but that was still the kind that I despised the most. It was the silence that was usually followed by screams of terror, and although I knew that would not be the case that evening, my anxiety remained relentless.

"Gustave, you mentioned at our home that you help your father with his architectural work. Are you an apprentice of sorts?" Philippe finally spoke, changing the subject and ending that horrid silence. He truly did seem to be the saving grace of the evening. 

Both Gustave and I released breaths that we hadn't realized we had been holding in, very glad that Philippe had piped up to divert attention away from me. "Yes, I've always been interested in his work," he replied before looking at me. "Papa, their house was beautiful and so wonderfully crafted. The architect that designed it was a talented man."

"Is that so?" I asked. "I would love to see it. Perhaps take some notes for my designs."

"I'm sure that visit can be arranged," Philippe said with a smile.

"But yes, I work alongside my father with his firm. I suppose I'm an apprentice; I interact with the clients and relay their commissions to Papa, and he'll draft the blueprints. He's helping me learn about drafting as well. I'm actually in the middle of drawing up my first complete home design. It's getting me ready to take over the business when he retires,” Gustave explained. 

"Well, if you are as talented as your father, I'm sure it will be just as incredible as this house," Marguerite said.

I couldn't help but smile, proud that my son had taken so much interest in my work and was truly following in my footsteps. For so long, I had never imagined that would be possible; but finally having it, I wouldn't exchange it for anything. "I believe it shall surpass my work. My son's talent exceeds mine," I added.

"I actually met Erik through his work," Nadir mentioned. "I was charged with bringing him to Persia from Russia at the request of the shah."

Lara's head quickly picked up, her eyes wide and glittering with a new spark of intrigue. "The shah? Don't tell me that he was the architect behind the likes of the palace at Ashraf? Were you, Mister Destler?" she asked me.

I chuckled; that love of history that Gustave had mentioned was on full display. "The very same. One of my greatest masterpieces. Yet no one knows it was I who designed and built it. I made sure of that," I explained.

"Oh, but why? An architectural masterpiece such as that deserves to have the name of its creator known. No palace has rivalled it for years, what with its vaulted ceilings, jewel-encrusted throne rooms, and beautiful studies! Not to mention the passageways throughout. Why wouldn't you want to be associated with such a thing?" Lara looked confused; distressed, almost. That was her passion, and my demand for anonymity obviously baffled her.

"Well, if people had known that it was me, they would hire me to design and construct more and more buildings of that calibre. I don't think I could ever outdo the grandeur of that palace," I reasoned. "On top of that, it adds intrigue to the story, does it not? You are standing in the place where the great shahs and empresses of an empire once stood, and yet no one knows who put the floors there."

A toothy smile appeared on Lara's face as she took in what I had said. "A beautiful way to put it, Mister Destler. It is incredible for me to be able to meet the architect behind that masterpiece."

"Thank you, and please, no need for the formalities, my dear. You can call me Erik." I then turned to Philippe, a newfound vigour to converse within me. "So, Philippe, what about you? What sort of employment occupies your day?"

* * *

"So was there to be a reward for your work?" Lara asked. The meal had finished as a success, and while Gustave and Nadir entertained Philippe and Marguerite, she had offered to help me wash the dishes. To be helpful, of course, but also to have a chance to ask many more questions about my work in Persia. "A palace of that magnitude surely warranted some sort of prize."

"To build it would have been a sufficient prize," I admitted as I set a plate into the dishrack and stopped to turn to Lara. "However, the shah said that if I completed the palace to his liking, I would be granted the ability to rebuild all of Tehran for him."

"The entire city?" Lara gasped. 

"Every little bit. It was in shambles upon my arrival; houses abandoned, cracked dirt roads. I had a magnificent vision for it."

"The city is only now truly beginning to improve, though. Whatever happened?"

"Let's just say I teased a few people one too many times and fell out of favour with the shah," I replied with a wink.

"May I interrupt the history lecture?" Lara and I both glanced at the kitchen doorway as Philippe strolled in, a smile on his face. "Or is it too in-depth for someone with no knowledge to even attempt to grasp?"

"Father, Erik's stories are amazing! He was the magician to the Khanum of Persia and best friends with the Daroga, who is sitting right in the other room!" I couldn't help but laugh at Lara's excitement. My stories from Persia hadn't had that success since I told them to Gustave for the first time eight years ago. "Isn't that incredible?!"

"I'm going to nod and pretend I know what a Khanum is," Philippe said, nodding with added intensity to emphasize his point. 

"That's the mother of a shah! Like the Queen Mother of England!" Lara laughed and shook her head. "Father, didn't I mention that when I first read about it?"

"Of course, my darling. How could I forget?" Philippe said, kissing his daughter on the forehead. "Well, if you want to get to know the Daroga, Nadir is telling old stories of his police work. I need to ask Erik something anyhow, so go listen in."

"Yes, Father." Lara gave me a grin as she hurried out to the sitting room, Philippe shaking his head with a chuckle as she did.

"She didn't talk your ear off, did you?" he asked. "I'm sorry if she did, but when she gets off on a tangent about history, it can be hard to stop her."

"It isn't a problem at all. I am just as passionate about music, so I understand," I replied. "I do love history myself as well, so our little talk was quite enjoyable."

"Good, good." Philippe paused then, looking down at the floor and sighing before turning back to me. "Erik, I am truly sorry for all of the questions about your mask over dinner. My wife, bless her heart, tends to say what's on her mind, and I was no better with my inquiries. I could see that you were quite uncomfortable, so I wish to apologize."

I waved him off. "It's no trouble, truly. When you come to visit the father of your daughter's significant other, you don't expect a mask. Plus, I am used to the stares. You and your wife asked your questions in a much more polite fashion than what I am used to. Your kindness and subtlety are appreciated," I said.

"Have you truly seen much worse?" Philippe queried.

"For my face, I have been slapped, spat on, whipped, and countless other things I dare not speak. To have a few innocent questions thrown at me was a breath of fresh air,” I replied. 

"You hardly deserve it. People are much too quick to judge based on looks." Philippe took a glance around the kitchen, seemingly seeking something out. "Do you have a drink we could share while we talk? Please don't misunderstand, the tea is just fine, but it isn't always my first choice."

"Of course." I opened a cupboard and pulled out the whiskey that I had moved out of the living room for the evening; it put it out of sight and mind for Gustave. "I'm sorry that I don't have an abundance of options for you," I said as I poured two glasses of whiskey and handed one to Philippe. "After Gustave's history with alcohol and...well, with your younger brother, I try to keep our supply to a minimum."

"Ah yes. My little brother." Philippe's eyes were on his drink, but he eventually looked up at me and smirked. "I do remember him mentioning you now and again, although he painted you in a much more demonic light."

"I'm not surprised. The two of us never did get along. Particularly where Miss Daae was concerned," I replied. "We both loved her and were not pleased about the other vying for her attention."

"Yes, Raoul had been fond of her since he was a boy. I was at the wedding, you know,” Philippe said. “She looked stunning in her gown and veil; angelic, almost. Even still, all of the sparkles could not hide the fact that there was a certain dullness behind her eyes as she said her vows. Almost as if something was dragging her mind elsewhere."

It made my heart flutter a bit to know that it was obvious that something...our night together...that **I** was occupying her mind on her wedding day. "I'm sure she was beautiful, as she always was. Even still, in the short time that I knew them both, I could tell that there was something wrong between them. It seemed like it was clear that she hadn't thought her engagement through," I said. I hated that our conversation even had to happen; if I had just stayed in bed that morning, our lives could have been so different.

"Yes, well, if that was the case, she made the best of it. She was so wonderful to Raoul and Gustave, even if that scenario with the boy was...complicated. Only she truly knew what was in her heart, though. I think, on that, we can agree."

I nodded and sipped my drink, but couldn't help the question that formed in my mind. Philippe had known both Raoul and Gustave for years. Perhaps he could give me insight into the scenarios that Gustave would not speak of. I could never ask Gustave myself; I would never ask him to relive that for the sake of me knowing. Sometimes my mind brought me to unsavoury imaginary scenarios, though.

"I know this may not truly be my business, and I would not wish to put you in an uncomfortable position, but I must ask you something," I said as I set my glass on the counter. "Philippe...did he ever lay a hand on them? On Christine or my son?"

Philippe sighed, setting his glass down and crossing his arms in front of him. "You have a right to know. This is the woman you loved and your only son, you deserve to have an answer. While it destroys me to say it of my little brother...there were a few occasions, yes,” he said. 

Anger quickly replaced my anxiety, and I took to fiddling with the wedding band on my finger to manage it. "Did you see it happen with your own eyes? Or did she tell you?" I asked.

"I never saw him strike either of them, though I saw the aftermath. I stopped by their home on time while I was alone in the area for work, and that is the one instance that stands out. I got to their home and Christine was quick to invite me in. Despite her cheerful disposition, though, I noticed the dark bruise on her wrist that the sleeves of her dress were too short to hide. Then Gustave toddled in with a fading welt on his face. The poor boy couldn't have been more than four, and it broke my heart because I knew exactly what had happened. A drunken stupor, I prayed, and not intentional actions,” Philippe replied with another sigh. 

I was livid. Gustave had mentioned that Raoul had screamed at Christine and him, but never could I have imagined the physical damage he inflicted. I knew my Christine; she would display outward perfection at all times. Of course she never told anyone. 

"Did you ever say anything to him?" I demanded, a newly defensive tone to my voice.

"I tried, I truly did," Philippe insisted. "On that night that I visited, I intended to confront Raoul about what I had seen, but he had already left for the bar when I tried to do so. Christine was so good to him; she deserved nothing like what he gave her. And Gustave...he meant the world to me, so I did my best to be a stand-in father figure for him. I know Raoul; = he always expressed some sort of interest in the boy, but..." He paused mid-explanation and shot me a sympathetic look. "Infants generally look like their fathers in their first six months of life, so I would not be shocked if that realization about Gustave pushed him away.   
  
"Even still, if I had gotten to speak to him, I doubt he would have paid any heed to my words anyhow. After that visit, he stopped coming to my home. Not even an invitation to a party for Lara got him to visit. I didn't see Christine again until I saw the pictures in the papers when she died, and Gustave and I didn't cross paths again until he started courting Lara. I hated that lack of communication, but Raoul is as stubborn as a mule when he wants to be."

I took a deep breath, quickly finishing my drink in one swallow. "I appreciate your honesty. Being in the dark about that part of my son's past was like torture," I admitted.

"Of course. I hope this will give you some peace in that you no longer have to go back and forth between knowing and not knowing. I am glad you asked, Erik. You're Gustave's father, you deserve to know about such a thing."

I was quick to offer him a handshake. "Thank you. With Lara, though, he is like a whole new person. That part of his past doesn't seem to matter when she is around," I said with a smirk. "Speaking of those two, we probably should get back to them."

"Yes, probably. We can't hide in the kitchen the entire night," Philippe replied with a laugh.

"As simple as that would be."

"My thoughts exactly, but we should go chaperone our son and daughter."

"Of course. What fun would it be if we weren't around to make things more fun and awkward?" I said, only to pause and look out into the foyer when I heard loud laughter from the sitting room. "Although it sounds like they're having quite a good time without us."

"Tsk, tsk. We can't have that, now can we?" Philippe said with a slow shake of his head.

"Shall we go sort out all that laughter, then?"

Philippe nodded and gave me a firm pat on the shoulder. "Come on, Erik. Let's go embarrass the lovebirds," he suggested.

* * *

"Well, I would consider this evening a success," Nadir said. "Erik made it through a social event...my goodness. That’s something I never thought I would say. I’m so proud of you." 

I laughed as I took a seat on the couch in the sitting room. "That I did. Sure, there were ups and downs, but I can say that I do like my future daughter-in-law," I replied. 

"Hold your horses. What?" Gustave asked me. "What do you mean?" 

"Oh, don't lie to yourself, Gustave. You know you two are going to get married and move to a little cottage in the countryside with all your children and leave me alone,” I said. 

"You'll have Nadir, Papa." He had ignored the statement about Lara and him getting married, I noticed. So he did agree with me, whether or not he cared to admit it. 

"I may as well be alone. He's become background noise at this point with how much time he spends here." 

"I am still here!" Nadir pointed out as he walked behind me and gave me a flick in the back of the head. 

"Believe me, I know," I retorted with a cheeky smile in his direction. "I have accepted that I am stuck with you until I die. There are worse ways to spend my days, I suppose. Either way, you moving away, Gustave, means that I'll be a grandfather, so that makes up for it." 

Gustave smiled and walked over to sit next to me, then leaned his head on my shoulder. "So you like her, Papa?" he inquired softly. 

"Yes, _mio soldatino,_ very much. A lovely young lady has captured your heart,” I replied as I leaned my head on top of his and patted his knee. "She has won you over and I could not be happier for you."


	12. A Hello and a Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> News, both good and bad, arrives at the Destler household.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updated 11-13-20

**_JUNE 1915_ **

**_ERIK_ **

The worst day of my life began with the postman dropping off the mail. It was such a routine at that point that I hadn’t thought of how that day could have been any different from the day before. Everything had happened that day just as they had for the past eight or so years; Gustave and I had woken up and eaten breakfast before I sent him off to school. I picked up the mail and was drinking a cup of tea while I read. 

However, just as always, the world would not let me be happy. 

Anger filled my chest and I clutched the teacup tighter as I read. When I reached the end, I threw it across the kitchen, screaming something that I couldn’t be bothered to even process. Of course, I had considered the possibility but I never imagined it actually happening. My hands were shaking, but I somehow steadied myself enough to walk over to the phone. Tears were welling up in my eyes as I asked the operator to connect me to his phone.

“ _Hello?_ ” he answered.

“Nadir, I have some news.” My voice was cracking like old plaster as I spoke, every word paining me to utter. 

He must have heard how distraught I was in those few words since he responded quickly and firmly, saying: _“Don’t tell me over the phone. Stay out of the kitchen and I will be there shortly.”_

The line went dead and I stood there with the earpiece still in my hand, unsure of what to do next. He told me not to go into the kitchen, for reasons he and I knew all too well; there were too many things in there that I could use to do myself harm. So I moved to the living room and sat in Gustave’s place on the couch instead, the letter still in my hand. All I could do was stare blankly at the sheet of paper in my hand. I wanted to crumple it, throw it in the fireplace and watch it burn, but I just sat there looking at it. It hadn’t seemed like I had been there for very long when Nadir burst through the door. 

“Erik, where are you?” he called. Obviously, he thought I had been in the kitchen, ignoring his request for me to stay away from the room and the hazards it held. 

“I am capable of following simple instructions, Daroga,” I replied, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears.

“You’ll have to forgive me but our history together precedes you,” he said in an attempt to crack a joke, but as he walked into the living room to join me, he quickly gathered that I could not bring myself to engage in our usual banter. “What is going on?”

“I got this with the mail today,” I managed to say as I handed him the letter so he could see for himself. “Gustave has been drafted for the war.”

Without even reading what I’d given him, his head shot up and he looked me in the eyes. “You can’t be serious,” he breathed. 

“Do you really think I would joke about this!” I demanded. I was feeling so many things at once that it was hard to distinguish between the emotions. The tears started flowing as I said those words out loud, seemingly making it real. My son had been drafted. He was going to be a part of the war tearing our world apart. 

“I'm not suggesting that you would, Erik. I am in just as much shock as you are. What sector?” He still had yet to read the paper in his hands; all that information was there, if he would only just take a moment to look over the letter instead of forcing me to recite it all. 

“If you read the paper that is in your hand, it would tell you all of the details but he was assigned to the engineering department.”

The relief that washed over his face caused me to relax a little, though only for a moment. “Thank god he isn’t being sent to the front.”

“Do you really think I would still be alive if he was being sent to the front?” I asked as I looked down at my hands, my wrists in particular, knowing how quickly I would have spiralled into a darker place than I had ever been in before if that had happened. “I broke a cup against the wall when I read it the first time.”

“When does he leave?” Nadir inquired. More questions coming from the man who had all the answers in his hand, though who was obviously too afraid to look.

“He is expected at the train station in three weeks,” I said slowly as a realization dawned on me. “The day after his performance at school.”

He didn’t respond for a few minutes, but put the paper on the coffee table and kneeled in front of me, looking me in the eyes. “Then we will all be there for him. I will be there at the train station with you. You don’t have to do this alone, Erik,” he said softly. 

“I…I just don't know what I am going to do without him,” I confessed.

He straightened up and sat next to me on the couch, patting me on the back. “We will figure it out. Just as we always have.”

“I have had nightmares about something like this happening, Nadir. About him being stolen from me. ” Any resolve I had towards keeping my composure was being chipped away piece by piece as though I was a block of marble. But there was no sculpture to be formed, only rubble. 

I hadn't realized it yet but my hands had balled themselves into fists and before I knew what I was doing, there was a familiar sting of pain on my thigh. The release felt so good, so I continued; I pounded over and over on my leg as tears streamed down my face. Soon though, Nadir seemed to snap out of his otherworldly train of thought just in time to catch my wrist mid-swing. 

“How could I ever let this happen to him?” I croaked. 

“You cannot blame yourself, Erik, you know that. And what would Gustave say if he saw you doing that to yourself?” His steady grip was the only thing keeping my wrist pinned to the couch. I had lost the willpower to control my actions long ago. 

I didn’t have anything left to say, for there was nothing more that could be said, so I simply sat there and choked out the sobs that I had been holding back as we spoke. Nadir seemed to have understood that I had run out of words to utter as he pulled me into a tight hug. We sat like that for a while, experiencing the same pain once more. It reflected the grief that we had shared over Reza’s death decades ago, but with the present case, we both had time to let our emotions flow free. We didn’t have to put on a strong facade to stand before a king, we no longer had to be present in court, slaves to the beck and call of those in power. For a change, we were able to grieve openly and be by each other’s side; a relieving shift. 

When we finally let go of each other, we simply sat there looking at the letter not knowing how we were supposed to tell him that he was leaving. 

* * *

Nadir had left hours before Gustave arrived home but my eyes had yet to run out of tears. I had managed to get them under control just before he left, but as soon as the door closed - as soon as I found myself faced with the impending loneliness that I was to be left with soon enough - they flowed freely all over again. I had moved to the study in hopes of throwing myself into my work, but nothing seemed to be helping. I barely even realized the time going by until I heard Gustave walk through the door. 

“Papa, I’m home from school!” he cried through the house. I didn’t respond right away, as I was too busy trying to get my voice to sound somewhat normal before responding, but I couldn’t seem to accomplish that. Eventually, he called out to me again, determined to get a response: “Papa, are you home?”

“Yes, I’m in the study,” I finally managed to reply. The stress of having to respond seemed to have forced my voice into cooperating and hiding my grief. I heard him start making his way up the stairs, but it was only then that I realized I didn’t want him to see me looking like a complete mess, so I quickly turned my back to the door and acted like I was busy with the blueprints in front of me. 

“Is everything alright?” Gustave asked as he walked into the room. It was a fair question; I usually tried not to be working when he came home so that I could help him with his song for the school talent show. 

“Everything’s fine. I hope you don’t mind me working during our practice, I just really need to finish this design,” I said without taking my eyes off the paper in front of me, knowing that if he saw me, he would see right through me and know I was lying. 

“Alright.” I could hear the confusion in his voice as he spoke. The whole scenario had to have been very unusual for him, so I couldn’t have hoped for much else. He reached over on my desk to pick up the sheet music, which I thought nothing of; I assumed I would hear the first few bars of lyrics. Instead, he posed a question: “Papa, when did this arrive?”

Without even thinking, my eyes shot up, and all I felt was complete terror when I saw that he wasn’t holding the sheet music; he was holding the deployment letter. I didn’t know what to say, so I kept silent. Gustave had looked away from the paper at that point and had met my red and puffy eyes. 

“My god, Papa. When did this come?” he asked again, though he was obviously more concerned about my wellbeing than his own. 

“It came this morning.” Tears were already flowing down my cheeks, but they only intensified when I saw that my son had started to cry as well as he processed our new situation. He didn’t say a word at that moment; he only hugged me. 

“I’m sorry. I am so sorry, my boy. I promised your mother I would keep you safe,” I said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“It’s not your fault, Papa,” he choked out, hugging me a little tighter and burying his face in my shoulder. That was how we stayed for a long time, neither of us wanting to be the one to let go.

* * *

In the morning, Gustave and I had talked over breakfast. We had tried to act like nothing had changed at all, but the elephant in the room was impossible to ignore. Regardless, we did our best and Gustave made it out the door on time for school. Once he left, I threw myself into my work, vowing to bury myself in anything that wasn’t my own dangerous thoughts. I was so tired of crying that I couldn’t even bring myself to put on Christine’s record; I knew fresh tears wouldn’t be far behind once I let her voice fill the room. 

It wasn’t until around two in the afternoon that I realized I should eat something or else I’d have either Gustave or Nadir - or even worse, both at the same time - on my back for it. I had just put the kettle on when I heard a knock on the door, but it was so soft that I was second-guessing whether or not I had actually heard anything as I walked to the front foyer. Thankfully, I was correct and I opened the door to see Madeleine, though she wasn’t in the same cheerful mood as she was at our usual visits; tears were streaming down her face as she clutched a crumpled piece of paper in her hand like it were the only thing keeping her grounded in this world. I immediately recognized the colour of the envelope and was struck to the bone with fear. _This couldn’t possibly be happening. Not them too..._

“It happened, Erik,” she choked out through her uneven breaths. “T-They’re taking my baby away from me.”

“Come in, Maddie,” I said as I ushered her inside, wrapping my arm around her and pulling her close to my side. ”Tell me everything. I was just making tea.”

After the tea was made and her breathing was regulated, she was able to try to explain the situation at hand. She uncrumpled the paper and tossed it onto the table, which let me see that it was almost identical to the one I had received only the day before.

“I got this in the mail this morning.” She pointed at it as if it were poisonous, like she couldn’t bear to touch it again. 

I picked it up to read it and it was, in fact, identical to the one for Gustave. Reading it, I quickly began to get choked up all over again. It was such a personal stab; even if William wasn’t my son, he had become like one over the past eight years. 

“At least our boys can keep each other out of trouble,” I croaked. 

A sharp gasp escaped her. “You can’t mean what I think you do?” she breathed. 

“I was reading the mail yesterday and came across it. I threw a cup against the wall and broke it.” I couldn’t look her in the eyes until I was sure the tears that had been forming in my eyes had disappeared. I had to keep myself together for her sake at that moment; it was her turn to be the parent in grief. At that moment, though, a new layer of fear filled my thoughts and tears threatened to spill all over again. “Charles. Did he...?”

“Oh god, no.” She sounded so relieved just uttering those simple words, and my own anxiety lessened with that fact. “Thank the Lord he didn’t. I don’t know what I’d do if they took both of my boys,” she said, taking a shaky breath before adding, “Especially considering the other development of the day.”

My heart dropped in my chest, unsure of what she meant by that. “What do you mean? Have things gotten worse? I haven't listened to the radio recently.”

She let out a small chuckle at my obvious confusion; at least she was laughing rather than crying. “No, Erik, what I mean is...I am with child again. I got the confirmation this morning at the doctor’s. I didn’t think it was possible for someone my age,” she said as more tears welled in her eyes. “It’s quite bittersweet, isn’t it? God gifts me with one baby as he sees it fit to pull another from my arms.”

With that statement, she began crying again so I pulled my chair closer to hers and hugged her tightly. “Madeleine, it’s wonderful that you’re pregnant again. You and Charles must look at the bright side; you’re going to have a little baby to hold in your arms and love very, very soon, and William will come home to meet his new little brother or sister. Your family is expanding and that’s absolutely incredible,” I said softly. 

A small smile spread across her face as she took out her handkerchief to wipe under her eyes. “I suppose you’re right,” she said quietly. “I just can’t shake the feeling that something bad is going to happen.”

“Neither can I. We know those two, though. They will do anything to keep one another safe.” In an attempt to comfort her, I put my arm around her shoulders before I continued: “I understand your fear, Maddie, but if we are going to survive the next God knows how long, we cannot think like that. We have to try to remain positive. Our boys are strong; they can get through this and will do it together, just as our families will cope together. Plus, you have a huge positive on the way. You have a life growing inside of you! That’s one of the most incredible things that can happen to a person.”

She didn’t respond with words; she simply nodded before saying, ”You’re right. They are going to be together, just as they have always been.”

“Exactly. They may be leaving together, but they will come home together. I know it.”

“They’ll keep each other safe.” Her statements were reiterating what we had said only moments ago, but I could tell she was doing so in an attempt to quell her own anxiety, so I didn’t say a word. 

“They’re brothers, it’s what they do,” I assured her. “Now, dry your tears. I expect you to go home and relax; you have a little baby to take care of. You must be excited, aren’t you?”

She followed my instructions and wiped away the fresh tears from her cheeks before her hand came to rest on her abdomen. “It’s strange actually. I am absolutely overjoyed yet terrified at the same time.”

“Why are you scared? You’ve done this before.”

“Well, you see…” She trailed off and looked down at her feet, seemingly in embarrassment. “I haven’t told Charles just yet.”

My jaw went slack with shock. I could not believe what I had just heard! “You told me before you told your husband!” I exclaimed. 

“Well, I knew you’d be home, and I didn’t want to disrupt his day at work,” she replied sheepishly. “He’s so busy with his students, I would hate to interrupt.” 

“That’s not how this usually works, Maddie. Forgive me, I am new to this entire pregnancy reveal concept, but shouldn’t the father of the child know first?” I was still completely flabbergasted, so I was being slightly more blunt than usual. 

“But Erik, Charles keeps talking about retirement. He is going on about our lives after William leaves home and starts a family of his own. How is he going to react to having to raise and support another child?” Maddie asked, clearly desperate for an answer. 

I realized that I may have been a bit insensitive - her fear was completely rational. So after a deep breath, I attempted calming her nerves: “Maddie, if I know Charles at all, I know that he is always trying to make you smile. I’ve seen how he looks at you; he seems like a schoolboy with a crush every time. And if having another baby is going to make you smile, he will do it with you in a heartbeat.”

She seemed to have been amused by my comment about her husband being a lovestruck child, as a smile crossed her face and her cheeks flushed a bit. It made me feel good to know she trusted me enough to know these details about her life. I also seemed to feel lighter making her laugh; it was almost as if it was helping me cope as well. 

“I hope you’re right,” she said.

“Well, I am hardly ever wrong,” I said, smiling when she laughed again. “Here’s an idea: I propose that you, Charles and William come over for dinner tonight. We can celebrate the strength of our boys and your little one on the way. That way you have a perfect opportunity to tell your husband and son.” 

“That sounds lovely, Erik. Thank you.”

“As always, you are very welcome.”

“Do you want any help with dinner?” she asked. I chuckled, as I could already see the gears turning in her head as she considered all the possible things she could bring.

“No, no,” I said. “You have to get yourself and the two little heathens you have ready. Let me handle dinner.”

* * *

That evening we were all gathered around the dinner table, as if it were any other night. Charles and William seemed to be a bit shaky; Maddie had undoubtedly discussed the deployment letter with them, and William and Gustave had probably already discussed their situation alone in the latter’s room before dinner. I was trying to keep the mood light by discussing a particularly annoying client I had been trying to deal with, though it was nice to be able to discuss it with someone.

“No exaggeration, the man commissioned a mansion with _four_ levels and an enormous backyard, then called me two days after our initial conversation to ask if it was finished. Has the concept of patience been entirely lost on people?” I asked as I sipped my drink, then shook my head a bit. “Anyhow, that’s enough about my day. Someone else tell a story, please.” As I said that, Maddie shot me a quick look that told me she was ready to share her news. I gave her a small nod, encouraging her to continue. 

“Actually I had a rather eventful day as well,” she began. 

Charles turned to face her, clearly already sensing that his wife was tense. “What’s going on, dear?” he inquired. 

“Well...there isn’t really any way around it, so I’ll be frank. I’m pregnant,” Maddie said softly. 

A heavy silence fell on the table and a mutual anxiety festered in Maddie and me. My only prayer at that moment was that I hadn’t filled Maddie with false hope. I didn’t know what I would do with myself if I had lied to her, of all people. I glanced at Gustave then and shared a knowing glance, telling him to break the silence. 

“That’s amazing! You’re going to be a big brother, Will!” he said, patting his friend on the back. 

William seemed to still be in too much of a state of shock to form coherent sentences, though thankfully, Charles was able to say something more: “Well. I suppose my study will have to be converted into a nursery.”

Maddie’s eyes lit up with joy at his words. “So you aren’t upset?” she asked. 

He laughed a little at her question and kissed her before saying, “How could you think that, dear? This baby is a part of you. By that logic, I already love it.”

He practically jumped out of his chair and pulled her up with him, bringing her into a kiss once more before he dropped to his knees and kissed her belly. “Hello, little one. I know you’re barely anything larger than a pea right now, but don’t worry. I love you so, so much,” he said, leaning his head against her belly. 

Maddie’s face was flushed from her husband’s outburst, but the smile on her face made it all worthwhile. With that comment from his father, William seemed to have been released from his trance and a wide smile spread across his face before he stood up and practically ran over to his mother to hug her. Gustave followed by example and, within moments, I was the only one still seated at the table. 

“Erik, are you still with us? Didn’t you hear? She’s pregnant!” Charles asked as he prodded at me. I blinked hard, quickly realizing that my lack of reaction at this point probably looked suspicious. 

“It’s amazing!” I said, although my simple, yet probably over-exaggerated, reaction clearly didn’t help my case.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Charles said with a pointed glare. 

“What do you mean? I’m just as shocked as you, I promise!” I raised my hands in surrender. 

“You told him before you told me!” Charles looked back to Maddie, though he was clearly more amused than angry.

“I knew he’d be home! And I needed to tell someone,” Madeleine said in her defence. I couldn’t help but laugh as well, considering that she was giving him the same excuse she gave me. 

“Regardless, I couldn’t be happier for you,” I said as I got to my feet to shake his hand but instead got pulled into a hug. Once we let go, I watched a look that could only be described simply as dread wash over his face. 

“I’m never going to sleep!” he exclaimed before turning to Maddie again. “We’re going to have to change nappies again! And teach them to talk, walk…oh boy.”

She simply laughed at him. “I think you forgot that you left me to change all the nappies,” she said. 

“Dear god, Mother, was he this nervous when you found out about me?” William piped up. 

“Even more so, believe me,” Maddie replied, giggling as she did. 

I couldn’t help but stifle a laugh myself, though that did earn me a hard glare from Charles. “I really can’t judge, I never changed nappies,” I said. 

“Exactly, you missed this part. You didn’t have to wake up every two hours because your baby woke up crying,” he jabbed at me. 

“Once again dear, I believe you and I have very different memories of William’s infancy,” Maddie said, pressing a kiss to her husband’s cheek as her comment earned another laugh from everyone.

“Consider yourself lucky, Charles. Even with the sleepless nights and menial tasks, I would have given anything to have held Gustave as a baby,” I admitted to him. Looking at my son, my heart ached a little, knowing that I had missed all the vital years of his life. Even still, seeing him as the man he was becoming made me feel all the more grateful for the time we had shared. 

I turned back to Maddie then, who still had the biggest smile on her face. “I told you so.”

“Yes, yes, you were right. No need to get cocky,” she teased.

“I’m always right!” I declared, then turned to the full dinner I had prepared that was sitting on the table, uneaten and quickly getting cold. “Come on, let’s finish dinner. There is plenty of time for rejoicing afterwards.”

We all returned to our seats just in time for Charles to raise his glass. “A toast. A hello and goodbye. To new life, and to the fact that not even the military can separate our boys.”


	13. When We Say Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saying goodbye is never easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updated 11-14-20

**_JUNE 1915_ **

**_ERIK_ **

The next three weeks went by quickly; much too quickly for my liking. Everyone managed to keep themselves busy, though. Gustave and I were rehearsing for his performance every single day, allowing the music to draw our attention away from the impending approach of his deployment date. Nadir checked in regularly; he said he was coming to listen in on our rehearsals, but I knew he was really checking in on me. Although he was only a couple of years my senior, he had always taken on a fatherly role with me. I hadn't exactly caught on to it during my time in Persia, but being older and recognized that aspect of his friendship, I appreciated it more than I cared to admit. 

Lara came to visit in the days that followed, though they all seemed to end with her leaving close to tears and with Gustave staring at the door as if it were the last time he would ever see her. One visit was particularly bad; on a normal day, they would just sit on his bed in his room talking together and savouring those moments. But Lara had accidentally come on the day that Gustave decided to stop putting off the inevitable and pack his things. 

* * *

_I opened the door to see the familiar sight of Lara on the other side. The look of her strained smile had become second nature to me, as I’m sure mine has become to her. The act that everyone was trying to put up was for the ultimate benefit of the boys, but we were all dreading the days to come._

_“Good afternoon Lara. Gustave is just upstairs in his room,” I said quietly._

_“Good afternoon to you too, Erik. Thank you,” she replied. She had forced out the greeting we were so used to saying, almost like it was a broken record. Nevertheless, she walked confidently past me and right upstairs to his room._

_I went back to the living room, only to hear my son curse very loudly as I heard Lara’s footsteps stop. I never meant to eavesdrop, but they were talking so loud that it was unavoidable. I heard him virtually yell, “Lara, what are you doing here?!”_

_Without missing a beat, Lara countered, “I guessed what you were doing based on that idiotic lie you tried on me at school. I thought we were past that point, Gustave. I know that you know that seeing you pack upsets me, but it upsets me even more that you found it so easy to lie to me.”_

_“If it upsets you to see me pack, then why are you here?”_

_“Because I thought regardless of what happens, we were in this together.”_

_“Lara, please, we_ **_are_ ** _in this together. We will make it through this together,” Gustave sighed. He was trying to calm her down, but knowing Lara, she would not be tamed so easily._

_“Well then, you really are off to a great start, now aren’t you?” There was a pause and I wasn’t sure what to make of it; I hadn’t anticipated it going quiet during an argument between those two, but then I heard Lara speak up again: “You know what? I’ve made the decision.”_

_“What deci- Lara, darling, please don’t start with this again.” I could hear the exasperation in my son’s voice, but I knew that he was masking his sadness with irritation._

_“You don’t need to keep packing because you are not going!” I could guess what was happening at that point based on that piece of the conversation alone; I could practically see her pulling the suitcase away from Gustave._

_“Lara, you don’t get to decide that for me,” Gustave pointed out._

_“Yes, of course, that is completely justifiable. I don’t get to decide whether or not you go, but you get to make the decision to leave me here, wondering if you’ll come home.” The anger in her voice was clear as day; I’d never actually heard anything like that come from her before. She was normally so level-headed, even if she was ready to debate at any moment._

_“Do you think I want to do this? Do you think it doesn’t cross my mind every hour of every day that I might not come back from this?” Gustave asked. “It kills me to think of you here, waiting for me, and that some other man can simply sweep you away because he is here to be with you. The thought of someone else holding you because I can’t be here to do it myself is enough for me to hate myself for having to go. I am sorry for lying; you know I would never try to do that to you. I suppose that’s why you saw right through it. Even still, I need you to support me.”_

_“How am I supposed to support you when you are going to be half a world away?” Lara demanded. I felt like it was wrong for me to be hearing their entire conversation, but I couldn’t force myself to move away from where I was standing to listen._

_“I don’t know! I just need to know that you will be here.” Gustave was getting so choked up that my heart ached for him. I wanted to be there for him, to be by his side for comfort, but I knew that they needed the moment to themselves._

_“I need you to promise me you will come back.” She was pleading with him, begging for a concrete answer that he could not give her._

_“Love, I just said how hard it is for me to lie to you. I will always try and make it back to you, but...I can’t make that type of promise.”_

_“I don’t know how you can expect me to sit here and wonder if I am ever going to hear from you again or not!” There was another long pause that made me very worried about what would come next, only for my fears to be confirmed when Lara spoke again: “I don’t know if I can put myself through that. I need to go.”_

_I heard a rapid succession of footsteps come down the stairs as Lara raced out the door with Gustave following close behind, but not fast enough for him to make it out the door before she closed it in his face. He started fumbling with the doorknob in his haste and I was able to see the tear streaks running down his cheeks. I heard him mumble curse words along with, “I need to get to her” before he was finally able to swing the door open and chase after her._

_I once again hated that I was spying so much into his life but something inside me needed to know how the whole ordeal ended. I stood up and walked to the living room window to see if I would watch them from inside and, luckily for me, they were just barely within view and I was able to watch Gustave catch up to her. I obviously couldn't hear anything but there were a lot of hand gestures. Gustave tried to reach out to her but she walked away and it felt like I was looking in a mirror, and I immediately saw that awful memory of when Christine walked away from me when I tried to do the same. Thankfully, they continued their conversation and after a while, they started gravitating towards each other and eventually they were locked in an embrace. After what I could only assume was a brief goodbye, they shared a kiss and Gustave returned to the house._

_I quickly went to the front hall in an attempt to cover up my eavesdropping in case he had noticed. Once he was inside, he closed the door and pressed his back against it, breathing heavily as he slid down onto the floor. The fresh tears were still shining on his face. He was still crying. He began mumbling something, which I wasn’t quite able to understand, but I managed to catch the last bit and hearing it broke my heart:_

_“Then on bended knee, all I ask would be that this road bring her back to me. My prayer would be, whatever my destiny let this road bring her back to me.”_

* * *

To think that such weighty, emotional statements were coming from the mouths of eighteen-year-olds was tragic; these weren't things a young couple in love should have to consider, but it was the reality of the world. I just hated that it was the cruel reality of my world. 

Even with the terrible images we had been conjuring up in our heads, we managed to find joy in the little things. Madeleine and her family visited regularly, which ended up in Charles telling ridiculous jokes that made no sense half of the time and Maddie getting everyone's opinions on items for the nursery. Why she was asking four men for their opinions on decorating her baby's room was beyond me, but we all ended up having an enjoyable time. 

Eventually, though, the evening of the talent show arrived, making it the last night that all of us had to spend together. Gustave and I were rushing around the house, getting ready to head over to the school for the show, but I was stuck staring at my closet, trying to pick a suit jacket. As I had told Nadir I would, I had invested in a few darker coloured smoking jackets, one of which Gustave wanted me to wear. The new options available, however, did not make choosing one easy for me. 

"Papa, we have to go!" Gustave exclaimed. He appeared in the doorway of my bedroom, straightening his own black jacket. "Why aren't you dressed? We need to get going soon."

"All of this colour in my closet is new! I don't know what to wear," I replied, gesturing to the closet. 

Gustave sighed, walked over and grabbed a maroon jacket, pulling it off of the hanger and tossing it to me. "There. Now, let's go!" 

"Gustave, hang on." I grabbed him by the wrist and turned him around to face me. "You have to try and relax before you have a heart attack," I advised as I slipped the jacket on and straightened it in the mirror. 

"I'm just worried about it. The song is hard, especially at the end. What if I forget the words or-or what if my voice cracks? Plus it's a competition and I want to win," he stuttered as he sat down on my bed. "I just...I don't want to mess this up. Plus, I can't help but think about tomorrow-" 

"Don't think about that," I said firmly. "We will worry about tomorrow when tomorrow comes. As for tonight, it will go just fine. We have been practicing endlessly, you know the words like the back of your hand, and we've gone over techniques to prevent voice cracks. It'll be alright." 

Gustave nodded. "I want to do it well for Mother too, I want to make her proud," he said quietly. 

"I know, _mio soldatino_ , but I have total confidence that you will do it beautifully." I walked over and tipped his chin up so he was looking up at me. "Your mother would be so proud of you, that is all she ever was. Of that, I am certain." 

With a smile, Gustave got to his feet. "Thank you, Papa. Let's get going," he said. 

"Hold on. Come downstairs first. I have something to give you," I replied, shooting him a wink and walking down to the sitting room. 

"A present? Papa, you didn't have to." 

"It's fine, really. This one's special, now sit down." I pushed him down into his spot on the sofa, then rushed back up to my room and collected my gift. Holding it in my hand again brought back more memories than I had thought it would. Not that I had been surprised; it had been stored away for years without being touched, but it would do much for both Gustave and myself. It was another little piece of her with us on that bittersweet evening. 

"Close your eyes," I instructed as I walked back into the sitting room, the gift held behind my back. "It takes the fun out of the surprise if you can see the gift." 

Gustave laughed and shut his eyes, only opening them again when I set the gift gently in his hands. "It's Mother's scarf," he said matter-of-factly.

"Yes. The scarf she performed the same aria you will sing tonight with at the Opera House," I said. "I want you to perform with it as well. You don't need a choreographed routine as she had, but to have it with you and to toss it up like in the opera would be a beautiful way to channel your mother tonight." 

"So...maybe I could wear it around my shoulders? Then before all the vocalizing at the end, take it in my hands and toss it like her?" he suggested, talking as though he had much more confidence than he had. His hands were shaking and the tassels on the end of the scarf were making that evident. 

"Perfect. An artistic mind, indeed." 

Gustave laughed and draped the scarf over his shoulders, taking a deep breath as if to try and catch a hint of the perfume Christine so often wore. "A rather simple idea for an artist, don't you think?" 

"The best art is often the kind that you put no thought into, my boy. You will do absolutely incredible tonight," I said with a smile. "On that note, let's get going!" 

"Hang on! I have a present for you too, and it can't wait until later, so don't suggest it. Stay here," Gustave said as he ran out of the room, returning shortly with a large gift box. "Open it." 

He placed it on the ground in front of my armchair, but when I sat down to do as he’d asked, I hesitated momentarily when I noticed something. "Did it...did the box move?" I asked warily. 

"Just open it." The boy was grinning, which frightened me, which meant the box certainly moved, which meant...God, who knew what else it meant?! 

I raised a brow, but slowly lifted the lid, only to gasp and drop it when I saw the contents of the box. Round, dark brown eyes stared back at me; a golden spaniel puppy, her tail wagging frantically and making the pink bow wrapped around it hit the sides of the box. 

"Oh my god," I breathed, looking up to see Gustave smiling wide. "What have you done?" 

"I remembered all your stories about Sasha from when you were little, but hated that she died so cruelly. So, I figured I would get you a little gift to nurture while I'm...gone," he explained. "Nadir chipped in too. Delivering newspapers only pays so much." 

"Oh, Gustave, she's beautiful," I gushed as I lifted the puppy out of the box and into my arms, leaning away and laughing as she excitedly licked at my face. It was only then that I noticed the golden tag dangling from her collar, her name already engraved in it: Sasha. "Thank you. Thank you so much." 

"Of course. I hope you two will be as close as you were to the original Sasha." 

"No dog could ever overthrow her bond with me, but this little one might just give her a run for her money." 

Gustave laughed, then looked at his watch and gasped. "We need to get out of here. There's a little crate in my room, you can leave her in there until we get back so she doesn't have accidents all over the house," he said as he jumped up to start getting his shoes on. 

"Wonderful." I patted the top of Sasha's head and then held her up so we were eye to eye. "We'll be back soon, Sasha. So you can be there when we say goodbye," I whispered. 

* * *

We had arrived at Gustave's school without issue after that and quickly met with Nadir, as well as William and his family. However, the moment that she saw Gustave, Maddie frowned. "Your hair is a mess! Erik, did you do nothing about it?" she asked. 

I threw my hands up. "He doesn't let me fix his hair anymore. Something about being an 'independent man' or some nonsense like that," I retorted with a roll of my eyes. 

"Well, he can't say no to me, so I'll fix it." Like the mother figure that she was, Maddie walked up to Gustave, got on her tiptoes, and started running her fingers through his hair. "It has to swoop right, Gustave!" she exclaimed, holding him in place when he tried to squirm away. 

"Okay, Mother, that's enough," William said with a laugh, taking his mother by the shoulders and pulling her away. "If you weren't pregnant, I would have picked you up." 

Maddie rolled her eyes. "I just didn't want him going on stage looking like he just rolled out of bed!" she said in her defence. 

"We know, love, it was just a little intense," Charles said, giving her hand a squeeze. 

"Alright, everyone. I've got to get backstage. Thank you for coming," Gustave said as he offered hugs all around, though I could see on his face that he was looking for someone in particular, and one didn’t have to be a genius to guess correctly. Though Lara wasn’t there at the moment, I could only hope she’d be there for his performance. "I will see you after." 

"Well, I suppose we should sit down," Nadir said as Gustave hurried off and the lights were dimmed in the auditorium. "There are a few acts to go, given that Gustave is the grand finale." 

I nodded, turning to walk to my seat, but pausing when I noticed Lara running over to us, a bouquet of red roses in her arms. "Did I miss it?" she asked breathlessly. 

"It hasn't happened yet, Lara," I replied with a smile. "The show is just about to start, though, so come sit with us." 

She sighed, clearly relieved, and smiled back at me. "Oh, thank goodness," she said with a laugh as she followed us to the seats we had chosen. "I never would be able to forgive myself if I missed this. He's been so nervous." 

"That he has. I think he'll do brilliantly, though." 

The show was...decent, to put it lightly. Having gone from overseeing professional actors and singers in an opera house to being forced to grit my teeth through a mediocre flute performance and attempts to sing was a test, to say the least. Nadir gave me a hard poke in the ribs when I started muffling laughter during one performance, but after that, the night had gone without incident. All of the previous acts had been worth struggling through, I realized, because they had all led up to the moment when Gustave walked on stage, Christine's scarf proudly draped over his shoulders. Before he gave the nod to the musician he faced the crowd and surprised us all. 

“Before I begin, I wanted to dedicate this song to my family. We may not look like one but I couldn’t ask for anything more. Also, my mother, whose spirit gives me the confidence to be here tonight. Lastly, Lara, may the words resonate with you in the years to come. I love you.”

He was quick to locate me in the audience, and I gave him a nod as the piano accompaniment began. Although the music could have been better, Gustave was flawless. His pitch, pace, technique, all of it was perfect. He started out a bit stiff, but eventually, he was walking across the stage, the scarf now held in his hands. He was managing to replicate Christine's performance without ever seeing it; he had seen _Hannibal_ at a local theatre, but the staging had changed. Yet, he managed to replicate some simple moves, reminding me more of his mother than ever before

It was then that the most difficult part of the song arrived: the vocalization at the end. We had lowered the range to make it comfortable for him, but the final note was still the highest Gustave had ever reached. The room was silent as he paused, taking a deep breath before he flowed into it. He had made the runs his own, totally different from how his mother had performed it. I hadn't realized that I had been holding my breath until I exhaled quickly when Gustave successfully sang the highest note in the song, not a voice crack to be heard. 

The room erupted into applause, but I was the first to my feet. I caught Gustave's eye as he bowed and gave him a wide grin. I was too proud to even try to phrase sentences, but the tears in my eyes and my never-ending clapping conveyed it for me. 

The results were soon revealed for the show and applause filled the room once more when Gustave was declared the winner. The other contestants swarmed him, showing all the admiration they could while knowing full well what the next day brought for him and so many others. Everyone was determined to make it a special evening for him, and I greatly appreciated it. 

We all waited in our seats for Gustave to rejoin us in order to congratulate him, and when he finally did walk over, William almost knocked him over with the force of his hug. "You did great, Gustave! Really lightened the mood," he said, unable to keep the sorrow from his voice. 

"Thanks," Gustave replied grimly, but his face quickly brightened when Lara pushed her bouquet into his arms and gave him a kiss. "Thank you, Lara." 

"Of course! I figured I would get you roses since they're your favourite. Yours too, Erik," she said with a little laugh. "You were incredible tonight." 

"You would think I would have felt prepared enough without practice. Music is on both sides of my family and my parents are brilliant musicians, and yet I have still been practicing for months," Gustave replied. "You cannot even begin to comprehend how many times I cracked on that high note in rehearsal!" 

"Well, you definitely didn't tonight!" Lara laughed and gave Gustave a hug, which morphed into him lifting her up and spinning her around. "And you won on top of all of that!" 

"I don't even know how I did that." 

"You were flawless, that's how!" I said with a scoff. "How could you be confused about that?" 

"That last note should not be able to be sung by a human. Of course you won," Charles added. 

Gustave laughed. "You're all ridiculous," he said. "Though I appreciate the compliments." 

"This resounding success calls for a celebration, doesn't it?" I asked. "Everyone come back to our house for tea. There's a little surprise I want to show you as well." 

"Oh no," Nadir grumbled, dodging the smack on the arm that I was prepared to give him. 

"A surprise? Of what nature?" Maddie asked, a brightness in her eyes that I hadn't seen for a while. 

"You'll have to wait and see," I replied with a smirk. 

* * *

"Make yourselves comfortable, everyone. Maddie, you know where the kettle is, so you can get that started while I go get my surprise," I said as everyone walked into the house. 

"I'll help you," Lara offered as she walked to the kitchen with Madeleine. "Tell us when the surprise is ready, Erik!" 

"Of course!" I replied as I hurried up the stairs and into Gustave's room. Just where I had left her was Sasha, asleep in her crate. My heart skipped a beat when I saw her, recalling the few fond memories I had with the first Sasha in my life from when I was a child. We had gotten into so much trouble and my mother barely knew what to do with us, but we had too much fun. Then she was ripped so wickedly from me by those idiotic little boys in town. To have a new little puppy to love as I had loved her was a great blessing, especially because we missed so much time together. 

"Hello, sleepyhead," I said, reaching down into the little enclosed space and stroking her fur. Sasha quickly woke up and started licking my hand, already full of energy. "Do you want to go meet everyone?" 

The puppy’s rapid tail wagging and eager little whines answered my question immediately, so I scooped her into my arms and carried her downstairs. "Ready for the surprise?" I asked. 

"Yes! We're all in the sitting room!" Maddie called. I then stepped into the room, laughing when she practically leapt out of her chair to greet the little ball of fur in my arms. "Where did she come from?" 

"Gustave and I pooled our money to buy her," Nadir replied, sipping his tea and watching the pandemonium unfold before him. 

"She's so sweet," Lara said from where she sat. "Can I hold her, Erik?" 

"Of course. This is Sasha," I said as I handed the puppy over. "Named after my childhood dog." 

Lara was practically giddy with little Sasha in her arms - rubbing her fur, scratching her ears, letting the dog lick her face. "Oh, I wish we had a dog, but Mother's so allergic that we can't." 

"Well...won't Sasha's fur stick to your clothes and go home with you?" Charles asked. 

"Oh, who cares. Your mother will just sneeze a little, you'll be fine," William said. "But you get to play with the puppy that I want to play with, so share, Lara." He got to his feet and walked over to her, taking Sasha into his arms. "Aren't you sweet, little girl?" 

"Your house is getting busy, isn't it, Erik?" Charles asked, smiling as Sasha squirmed in William's arms. "You practically have an infant in the house. Can you handle it?" 

"I'll manage, I think," I said. "Sasha will give me someone to baby because Gustave won't let me do that anymore."

Lara laughed and took Gustave's hand in hers. "Why won't you let him treat you like his little boy? That's all he wants, you know. That's what most parents want. You're his only child!" 

"He's being ridiculous. Just because I don't let him fix my hair every three seconds doesn't mean I don't want him to keep being a parent," Gustave said with a roll of his eyes. 

"I know, I'm teasing. Sasha will keep me busy and give me someone else to associate with besides Nadir,” I said. 

My friend groaned but was still shooting me a smile all the while. "You know we're still going to be around each other all the time. You can't get rid of me," he said. 

"If I really wanted to, I could." 

"Oh, but you don't want to. Plus, if you did, what fun would that be?" 

I couldn't help but smile. "You raise a good point. The two of us and this puppy is going to be quite the experience." 

"It probably will be. I wish I could stay to see it," Gustave said softly. As much as everyone in the room hated that the statement was accurate, we had come to accept that reality. Sasha was bought to keep me busy while he was gone - something to try and stop me from thinking about the fact that my son and his best friend were in the military, the possibility of them being killed looming constantly. It was terrifying, and I wasn't sure any puppy would be able to help that whatsoever. 

William sighed, stroking Sasha's head as she started dozing off on his lap. "I think we both wish that," he said as his father wrapped an arm around him. 

"We ought to get going," Charles said as he noticed the tears quickly pooling in his wife's eyes despite her clear effort to keep it together. "We...we have to be up early tomorrow morning." 

"We all do. Thank you for coming," Gustave said, getting up and helping Maddie to her feet. "Having you all in the audience tonight meant a lot." 

"Of course, like you said, we may not look like a family but we are and we wouldn’t have missed this for anything," Madeleine said, giving him a tight hug before moving to do the same for me. "We'll see you all at the station tomorrow." 

Hugs were exchanged with the rest of her family before they left, with Lara starting to get ready soon after. "I don't want Father to worry about me if I'm out too late," she said, trying to laugh through the comment but starting to choke up quickly as she turned to Gustave. "But I don't want to go. I don't want you to go, Gustave." 

I sighed and walked back to my chair in the sitting room, leaving the couple in the front foyer and trying my best to block out Lara's tearful expressions. "I can't bear to even think about tomorrow," I said, looking at Nadir sitting across from me. "He shouldn't be leaving. This senseless war is stealing so many lives, it’s ridiculous."

"I share your sentiments, Erik, I truly do," Nadir said as he stroked Sasha's back. "There's nothing to be done about it now, unfortunately. I know that if there had been some way to change this whole thing, you would have made it happen by now." 

I nodded, turning to look into the front hallway when I heard the door close and seeing Gustave hurry towards the stairwell. "He's distraught. I can't even imagine what tomorrow is going to be like." 

Nadir set Sasha on the floor and walked over to me, resting a hand on my shoulder. "It is going to be far from easy for any of us, but you're going to have to support him. He's young and doesn't know how to handle circumstances like this just yet. He's going to need you to be as present as possible, which means you need to sleep as best you can." 

"You actually expect me to be able to do that?" I asked, looking up at him wearily. "I can't sleep well because of nightmares on a regular night. How am I supposed to sleep tonight while my brain thinks every gruesome way I could lose my son?" 

"That's why I said as best you can. I understand that it's going to be a struggle, but you have to try. I'm going to go home, but I'll meet you at the station tomorrow. 8 o'clock, remember?”

"How could I possibly forget?" 

Nadir sighed, giving my shoulder a squeeze. "Good night, Erik," he whispered as he walked to the front door. 

I waited until I heard the door click shut before I got to my feet, having taken that time to collect myself. "Come along, Sasha," I called as I moved to turn the lights off, smirking as the little dog slowly stood up and followed me to the stairs. Her paws ended up slipping on the hardwood, though, so I picked her up for the trek upstairs. 

"Gustave, I just..." I began, only to train off as I walked into his room. I had expected to find him awake, but instead, he was fast asleep, still in his day clothes, with tear stains fresh on his cheeks. I set Sasha down in her crate, then moved to his bedside and gently woke him. 

"Gustave, get under the sheets. You'll wake up chilled," I whispered. 

He stirred, groaning and rubbing his face. "It's not time to go to the station yet," he mumbled. 

I sighed, trying not to let him hear the shaking in my voice. "I know, but you fell asleep on top of your sheets. You don't need to change, but at least let me tuck you in so you aren't cold," I reasoned. 

With a slow nod, he slipped beneath the sheets and let me pull them up to his chest. Before I could stand up, though, he grabbed my hand and looked at me with tear-filled eyes. "I don't want to go to the station. I don't want to leave you and Lara and Uncle Nadir and..." he said, his voice breaking slightly. 

"I know, Gustave, shh," I said, smoothing down his hair. "Try not to think about it for now. You need rest, alright? I'll see you tomorrow." 

Gustave nodded, then smiled up at me. "I'm letting you fix my hair. Are you happy with that?" he asked. 

A breathy laugh escaped me. "Very." 

"Good night, Papa," Gustave whispered. “I love you.” 

I bit my lip, willing myself to hold back my tears as I thought about never hearing those sentences again. "Good night, _mio soldatino,"_ I said as I bent over and kissed his forehead. “I love you too.” 

Getting to my feet, I left the room and walked to my own, only for my knees to buckle as soon as I stepped inside. My chest was heaving as I tried desperately, then failed miserably to keep myself from crying. I knew nothing could completely soothe the pain I felt, but I could think of one source of some comfort, so that's where I went. Slowly, I raised a shaky hand and dipped it into my shirt, pulling a silver chain out from under my shirt. After I had exchanged Christine's rings at her funeral, I put her wedding band on the chain and had worn it ever since, right over my heart, to keep a part of her close. 

"Oh, Christine," I whispered, clutching the ring to my lips as if it was a direct line to her soul. "What am I supposed to do? 

"How can I let him go?" 

* * *

**_GUSTAVE_ **

The morning had come far too quickly. As I had figured, I had hardly slept; between simple restlessness and nightmares, there was no way that I could have calmed my heart enough to sleep. When I got downstairs, I found Papa already at the table, his fingers rapidly tapping the top of it. I could tell he hadn't gotten much sleep either, as the exhausted look on his face so easily revealed. He turned to me and frowned a bit when he saw the mess of hair that I knew was on my head, but I let him fix it for me without protest, allowing him to pull through any knots and smooth it down. "Thank you, Papa," I whispered.

We ate in silence, knowing that if we tried to speak, tears wouldn't be far behind. Our morning up until we reached the station was quiet, in fact; not a word as we moved my luggage, the same case that we had traveled to London with, the one I had been too stubborn to let him carry for me. We continued in bitter silence as we travelled to the station and made our way to the platform. We only spoke as we arrived at that very platform, finding everyone already gathered there to wait.

Aunt Madeleine was the first one to hug me, even beating Lara to it. "You two take care of each other, okay?" she said, practically begging me to listen to her. "I want you both to come home and meet the baby and start families of your own and..." Her words faded into tears and sobs, so I hugged her tighter and let her cry into my chest.

"We're both going to come home, Maddie," I said softly as I let Uncle Charles pull her into his arms before he offered me a side hug.

"We'll be waiting for you. Both of you," he said. Even he was getting choked up, which said quite a lot; between him and Madeleine, he was usually more composed.

I nodded, giving him a pat on the back. I stood aside for a moment, Lara joining me and wrapping her arms around my waist. Willam hugged Papa and Nadir, then looked to his parents and ran into their open arms. "I'll be back soon. They say it'll be over soon, so I'll be back before you know it," I heard him say before he kneeled down and rested his head against Maddie's belly. "I'll see you soon."

That was all it took to make her cry even harder than before, if that was possible. "I love you so much, William," she said, hugging him again when he stood up.

"I love you too, Mother." William glanced over at me and Lara, which seemed to make him come to a realization. "Oh, Lara, do you have what I asked you for?" he inquired.

"Yes, I do," she said, unwrapping her arms from around me to reach into her handbag and pull out a slip of paper, passing it to William. "Here you go."

"Thank you," William replied, smiling as he pulled her into his arms. "Make sure she's okay for me, will you?"

"Of course. Goodbye, William."

Will pulled away from her and looked at me. "I'll save you a seat with me," he said as he picked up his suitcase and stepped onto the train.

I sighed, turning back to Aunt Maddie and Uncle Charles and hugging them again. "You two can get home. You need to rest," I said quietly. "I'll be alright here with the others."

Uncle Charles nodded, wrapping his arm around his wife and starting to walk away. "Goodbye, Gustave," he said.

I watched them go for only a moment before I turned to Uncle Nadir, rushing into his arms. "Goodbye," I whispered. "Promise me that you'll take care of him."

"I swear it. You know I would never lie to you...especially about him," Nadir said as he gave me a tight squeeze. " _Au revoir, mon ami."_

I leaned back, a grin on my face. "Did...did you just speak French? Grammatically correct, sensical French?" I asked.

"The one French phrase that I grasped out of all your father's teachings. The same one I used to say goodbye as he left Persia."

I smiled and gave him another hug. " _Au revoir,"_ I whispered, stepping away and turning back to Lara. "My love. You know I hate to leave you."

"And you know how much I hate to watch you leave," she replied, her voice strangled by the cries that she was so obviously holding back. Her eyes were red, her face blotchy like it always was when she tried not to cry. "I...I have something for you," she said, reaching behind her neck and unclasping the necklace that she wore, then handing it to me. "I...My picture is inside. A little keepsake."

I opened the little locket, smiling when I saw my favourite picture of Lara inside; her smile wide, her green eyes sparkling, her golden hair intricately braided. "Beautiful. Thank you. Though it would take more than distance for me to ever forget your beauty," I said as I pulled her into my arms. I could feel the tears as they ran from her eyes to my shirt, but I didn’t care. I was trying to memorize every aspect of the feeling of having her in my arms. “Please my love… don’t cry. I will see you once again. On my life I swear this is not our story’s end. Though I am far away don’t you once believe you’re all alone. For every part of my heart will be with you each day that I am gone.”

"Seasons may change, love, but remember; I will love you until the end of time," she said as she buried her face in my chest. 

I kissed the top of her head before I tipped her head up so we were looking at each other again. "Come what may, Lara, I promise that I will love you until my dying day," I swore as I held her face in my hands and gave her a kiss, trying to pour all of the love and feeling I couldn't convey in words into one gesture. "I love you so much." 

"I love you more. Come home to me, my darling." 

“ _Je retournerai toujours_ ," I said to her. I wanted to see her face as she tried to figure out what I had said. It was the little way her intelligent emerald eyes seemed to be searching her brain that I had wanted to see one more time. 

“What does that mean?” Her voice was still rough from crying but she was determined to have an answer regardless. Oh, god I was going to miss her.

“It means ‘I will always come back’, and I will, one way or another.”

“You better.”

I held onto her with another kiss before I turned to give my final goodbye - to Papa. He had been silent the entire time; I had only heard him speak to say goodbye to William, but he hadn't said a word since. I looked at him with a sad sigh, watching him fiddle with his wedding ring. "Papa…" I whispered as I hurried into his arms, feeling him hug me tight. "I’m scared."

“I’m scared too, Gustave. I think we all are. But that’s alright. I think I would be more worried about you if you weren’t scared,” he said. He was trying so hard to be comforting, but he was just as shaky as I was.

“Thank you,” I said to him.

His grip loosened on me as I said that. I leaned back a bit to look at him and noticed that he seemed to be confused. That suspicion was confirmed as he said, “What on earth for?” 

“For being the one that stayed, the one that fought. For the past eight years of my life, which have been amazing. In case I don’t get another chance to tell you, I need you to know that I am grateful for everything.” I tried to keep explaining that to him but he pulled me back into a tight hug, and that was all I needed to know that he understood. “I love you, Papa.”

"And I you, Gustave." He pulled back and cupped my cheek with his hand, brushing my face with his thumb. "I never thought your nickname would become our reality, _mio soldatino,"_ he said with a shaky breath. "My hope when you came into my care was to protect you from this wicked part of the world, but a sheltered life is no life to lead. I, of all people, know that too well. I have tried to help you to have the life and experiences that I never had, but I realize now that in order for that to happen, I must let you go. I wish that war wasn't the reason that I have to allow you to leave my care, but alas, here we are. 

"I love you more than anything in this world. Just...promise me that you will come home. I don't know what I would do with myself if you didn't." He was quickly getting more choked up than I was. I could hear it in his voice - how strong he was trying to be. He must have seen the worry on my face, though, because he cracked a smile and added, "Plus, I don't think I can deal with Nadir for that long." 

We laughed and hugged each other again, holding on much longer and tighter than usual this time. "Goodbye, Papa," I said, pausing as he kissed my forehead. "I love you." 

"I love you more, my boy," he replied. 

I smiled weakly and walked to the train, giving my family one last look before the conductor blew his whistle and I had to hop on board. My luggage was stored and I walked through the passenger car, soon finding where Will was sitting with two other young boys our age across from him. 

"Well, that was the hardest thing I have ever had to do in my life," William said as I slipped past him to take the window seat. "I've never seen Mother cry so hard, and I can tell Father’s going to be a mess when they get home." 

"I know. I hate it when Madeleine's upset," I mumbled, fidgeting with Lara's locket. "Lara too." 

William nodded. "You should have seen Jane when we said goodbye for the last time." 

I sighed, heartbroken for my friend. "I'm sorry you had to leave so early into your relationship. Did she give you anything as a memento? Lara gave me a little locket." 

William nodded and lifted his left hand. "Promise ring. We exchanged them - mine has her name in it, hers has mine, but it’s one of those rings with a little hidden message inside, so it says ‘fly away’ in it. It’s a little thing between us," he explained, but paused. "How's your dad?" 

I shook my head. "Keeping up a facade of strength. He can fool all but two people with that - me and Uncle Nadir," I said. "I'm scared for him." 

Will gave my knee a pat as the train's whistle blew and we started to move. "He'll be okay. We'll be back soon enough." 

I nodded and looked out the window at the platform. I saw Lara waving at me, so I returned the gesture. Uncle Nadir was looking over his shoulder...and Papa was nowhere to be found. 

"We can't get back soon enough," I said softly. 

* * *

**_NADIR_ **

“Erik,” I said as I watched him turn and walk away once Gustave was out of sight. “Erik!” My calls fell on deaf ears and all I could do was watch until he was out of my sight, quickly realizing just how dangerous the next few hours could be for him. 

“Erik, are we-” Lara began, turning around as the train left, only to pause when she noticed the absence of the man she wished to speak with. “Where did he go?” 

“Home, I believe,” I said, running a hand through my hair as the possibilities of where he would go otherwise ran through my head frantically. 

“We were supposed to go to the café down the street for tea.” The young girl was disappointed, I could tell, but I wasn’t shocked that a lunch date had been the last thing on Erik’s mind as he fled. 

“As much as Erik is a man who keeps any and every appointment that he makes, I know him and he wants nothing to do with people at the moment. It is nothing against you at all, Lara, but his defence mechanism is isolation. I need to interfere with that, though. I’m afraid of what he’ll do to himself if I don't.” 

Lara looked at me with wide eyes, seemingly immediately understanding the implication. “You really think he’d do that?” she asked, her voice hushed. 

“I don't think; I know.” I gave Lara a quick pat on the shoulder and put the hat that I’d been holding in my hands back on my head. “I hate to leave you alone, but I have to make sure he’s safe. Will you be alright to get home?” 

“Yes, I’ll be just fine. Now go; I wouldn’t want something to happen to him because I kept you here to chat,” she said, giving me a hug. “Good day, Mister Khan.” 

“And you as well, Lara,” I said as I took off, hailing a cab and giving them the address to Erik’s home. My heart pounded in my chest every time the driver stopped, as that was one more delay I could not afford. My fingers were tapping away on my knee the entire ride; an anxious tick that I had managed to pick up from Erik himself. 

When we reached his house, I tipped my driver and hurried up the front steps, using my spare key to get in. As I stepped in, the silence that greeted me was eerie. It wasn’t the usual quiet in that house; there was no music from down the hall, no footsteps from upstairs. It was as quiet as a tomb, and with Erik, that was the most frightening kind. 

I stepped into the kitchen, glad to find my friend nowhere in it. I checked the drawers and everything seemed to be accounted for. Even still, that didn’t mean he was out of danger; he could be anywhere with the tools he needed to do serious damage to himself. 

“Erik, where-” I began, only to jump when I heard something smash against a wall from upstairs. Setting my hat on the table, I hurried down the hall to the stairwell and up to the second floor. “Erik, what’s happening?” 

I opened the door to his study and took a step inside, but stopped and slowly backed out, my eyes locked on the scene in front of me: Erik was on his knees in the middle of the room, tears pouring down his face and his mask cast to the ground. Broken glass surrounded him after he had clearly smashed a glass of some sort, explaining the sound I had heard, and his hands were bloody from kneeling with his fists pressed into the carpet littered with glass shards. As if the visual wasn’t shocking enough, though, the words that left his mouth made my jaw drop the slightest bit. 

“God on high...turn your attention to a man as lowly and insignificant as I am and please hear my prayer,” he begged. Erik had turned back to his Christianity, I realized, and that was something he had only ever done one other time when he was just as desperate and broken; when Reza died. It had been years...decades since then, and I knew without him saying a word that it was the first time that he had made a plea to his God since then. 

“I beg you to turn your attention to Gustave, where he may be. He is all I have in this world after you took your angel, Christine, back to join your heavenly ranks, so I ask that you bring him home. I made an oath to the woman that I love most in this world that I would protect him and I know that keeping one’s word is one of your requirements, so help me live up to that. He is so young...he’s only a boy! And William is like a second son that I feel like I’ve known his entire life. These boys are young and inexperienced; neither of them has ever held a gun in their life. He didn’t ask me to be born, so why should he learn of war or pain? My Lord, to make sure he’s not hurt again, I swear I would give my life for him.” 

My heart ached as I watched my friend hiccup through his words, eventually breaking down in sobs again. Erik never begged for anything; never for something he needed, never for mercy at the hands of his countless abusers. The last thing he would ever beg for is pity. He knew he would not receive it so he decided he never wanted it. But with the life of his one and only child at risk, begging for the pity of God almighty was his last resort. I understood the desperation; I would have done the same. I had done the same, in fact. 

“I ask that you give them strength, but give me strength as well so that I may have the will to keep living on this earth. I am well aware that suicide is the greatest sin in your eyes, but that temptation has never left my mind. Look at me and have mercy, in helping me to get through this,” Erik added, gasping for breath. “Then again, why would you ever listen to the prayer of a sinner such as myself? Blood coats my hands, I am a liar, a thief...I am just about all that you hate, and I have turned my back on you for so long. I have never been a pious person, but listen to the plea of a desperate father. Gustave tells me that you can take and you can give. You took any chance of me having a normal life from the day I was born, so all I ask of you is that you let him live. Bring him home, please. Don’t let the light of my life go out so soon…” 

I finally took a few cautious steps into the room as he concluded his prayer, bowed his head and began repeating the word ‘please’ over and over through his tears. “Erik,” I said gently. 

“Go away, Nadir,” he croaked, his voice cracking as he spoke. 

I shook my head, even though his head was hung and he couldn’t see the gesture. “No, I am not leaving. I’m just going to go get something to clean you up, but as much as you think you can do this on your own, you can’t.” 

I stepped out for a moment and raided the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, returning to Erik’s side with tweezers, bandages, and rubbing alcohol on a cloth. “Now don't move,” I said as I took his hand and removed the little glass shards before cleaning the wounds. 

“I don't need you here,” he insisted, anger lacing his voice through the hissing sound he made as the rubbing alcohol did its work. 

“You would have let yourself bleed out. You said you would be better than your mother, not be the same as her,” I retorted. 

Erik paused, taking a few shaky breaths as he considered the truth that I had presented him with. I saw the scars on his wrists from when his mother almost let him bleed to death as a boy; I was not going to allow that event to repeat itself by his own hand. 

“I don't need you,” he reiterated, his voice now quiet and less determined to get me to go. 

“You and I both know that is one of the biggest lies you have ever told in your entire life,” I said, setting the cloth down and starting to wrap one of his hands. “We have needed each other for one reason or another since the moment we met, whether it was when I was sick, when you were poisoned, when Reza died and every second in between. You told me the night that I agreed to help you raise Gustave all those years ago that you knew you couldn’t do it alone. So why should you be the only one of the two of us to be afraid and angry? Damn it, Erik, that boy is as much a son to me as he is to you. Don't you think I’m furious about this and petrified about him getting killed? I’ve already lost one son in my lifetime and I am just as terrified about losing Gustave, blood relations be damned.

“I know you. You mourn him like he’s dead even though he’s only just left! We’re all scared, Erik; everyone on this planet is scared, but you know who’s the most afraid? Those boys; **our** boys. They are petrified, so it’s our responsibility to be their pillar of strength. Haven’t you considered how Gustave would feel if he found you in this state? What does that do for him?” 

“Don't you dare compare my feelings to his,” Erik growled, shoving me away and leaving bloodstains on my shirt. “I do not feel fear as he does; rather, _Daroga,_ I feel loss. Eight years ago I didn’t even know he existed, and yet the moment he entered my life, it was like he’d been with me since he was born. The only way I was making it through each passing day then was by focusing on my work and my work alone. Then he entered my life and became my reason for living, Nadir!” He laughed a bit, almost as if that was the only way to keep himself from breaking down again; the smile that was so obviously fake told me that, plain and simple. 

“He is the reason that you and I are having this conversation because he gave me a reason not to die. You cannot even begin to comprehend how many times I contemplated suicide in America; there was a gun on my piano that I held to my head countless times, holding back for God knows what reason. Then he entered my life and it was like everything made sense in the world for once! The only other time I had ever felt such bliss was the day I first set eyes on his mother. If something were to happen to him, how could I ever forgive myself? You know, if it weren’t for me, he would still have his mother and they would still be in France!” he said, running his hand over his head and laughing in his delirium. “Philippe would probably have helped to buy Gustave out of his military service because you know that family has the money to do it. He would have had a better chance if it weren’t for me...he wouldn’t be caught up in this senseless fight.” 

My brows were creased as I held his cheek in one hand and turned his head so he was looking at me. “But Erik, you forget,” I said gently. “Without you, he doesn’t exist.” 

His eyes went wide as my statement so obviously hit him hard. He preached that the boy would fare better if he had never been involved, but Gustave never would have been created if that were the case. The resurgence of strained sobs and free-flowing tears proved that he had realized the gravity of those words, so I sat with my back against his bookshelf and gently pulled him to join me. I simply let him get it all out, his head on my shoulder and my arm around him as I gently hushed him. Eventually, the crying ceased, leaving Erik a mess as he tried to catch his breath. 

“I...I got blood on your shirt,” he croaked, finally acknowledging that little mistake from a few moments ago. “That’s not going to come out, you know.” 

I waved him off. “You were in hysterics, it’s alright,” I replied softly as I grabbed the bandages and started wrapping his other hand. 

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that, Nadir. It wasn’t meant to be a moment that I shared with others.” 

“I’ve seen you in worse scenarios. Even still, when are you going to learn that you don't have to apologize for being human?” 

I felt him shrug. “I’m simply not used to it,” he explained. “For the longest time, I was told that I was about as far from being ‘human’ as an individual can be, so I suppose I remain in that mindset even now.” 

“Believe it or not, you are human, Erik. I’ve seen that side of you before; first in Persia with Reza and now with Gustave. I know you are human, though you may feel otherwise at times,” I said. 

“My mother said that to me. She wrote me a letter, you know. Hid it in a picture frame with her and my father’s photographs; she apologized, called me human amongst other comments. Although, I believe the jury is still out on that theory.” 

“I’m sure it is,” I replied, laughing quietly with him. 

We sat in silence for a few minutes then, the ticking of the grandfather clock in the room the only sound besides an occasional sniffle from Erik. Eventually, though, I found the words to break that silence: “You’re going to make it through this, Erik, and you aren’t going to do it alone.” 

He tilted his head to look at me then, the smallest of smiles pulling at the corners of his lips as he did. “Neither are you,” he whispered.


	14. He's Lying, Isn't He?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> letters, part one of four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updated 11-16-20

**_AUGUST 1915_ **

_Gustave,_

_I hope all is going well for you. I appreciate the fact that you are worried about me but there is really no need. Everything is actually going quite smoothly in your absence. I have been getting a lot of work done recently and actually keeping to the deadlines I give. There is this one design that has been giving me trouble, but I should be alright to get it done on time; you know I manage to do that most of the time. Another thing you should be quite proud of me for is that I am becoming surprisingly comfortable with answering the phone and having proper conversations with clients. Don’t be too surprised if you come home and I am able to run the company on both the social and physical end of things._

_I am sure you do not only want to hear about the business though, so I’ll change topics for your sake. I know you are probably wanting to hear about Madeleine, but there is not all that much to tell you. She is doing quite well with her pregnancy, which is all that we can ask for, really. She is worried about both of you, obviously, though, in all honesty, I think we should be more worried about Charles. Not only is he in absolute hysterics about having to get things ready for the baby, but Maddie is also going through mood swings and such. Needless to say, he is walking on broken glass around his wife. Actually, to clarify that, we all are. One can never truly know what will set her off; any little word or facial expression that we think means absolutely nothing either makes her cry or sends her into a fit of anger. You really should consider yourself lucky that you aren’t here to see her like this, though we know it will all subside once the baby arrives. On that note, there is a little contest going on to see if the baby will be a girl or boy, so if you would care to participate, please tell me your guess. Personally, I think - and hope - that it will be a girl. Madeleine deserves another girl in the house to distract her from the disruptions known as the rest of us._

_I haven’t seen much of Lara lately but I believe she is doing well. She worries for your safety, as we all do. Even Sasha does, considering that she only knew you for a short while before you left. She has taken to sleeping in your room, so don’t be too surprised to find small tufts of her fur scattered about when you get home. On top of that, it seems that she has claimed that bed for herself when she isn’t sleeping in my room, so you will likely have to fight for the right to sleep there again._

_Nadir has been coming over regularly, as usual. Between the two of us, I wonder if he even knows what his own home looks like anymore. He has attempted to help wherever possible with work, though I haven't much need for it. Though from what I hear, his own little security business has been doing well. I don’t see how, considering that he doesn’t leave my house, but I am happy for him regardless._

_I am curious to know everything about what they are having you do. I know you were sent off to work on their engineering projects, but they never specified what exactly you were to be making. Don’t spare a single detail. I do hope that you and William have been keeping each other entertained and out of trouble. Please tell him that I miss him as well and I look forward to a rematch of our chess game when he gets back._

_I love you more than anything, my boy. I cannot wait for you to come home._

_\- Your Father_

* * *

**_SEPTEMBER 1915_ **

_Hello Uncle,_

_I hope you are doing well. I heard your business has been a great success while I’ve been away and I am very happy for you. Things are going alright here; they tend to keep us rather busy working on the project at hand. I am truly sorry, but I am not allowed to tell anyone what I am doing here, not even family. I really would like to tell you all, as I think you’d all find it quite interesting, but I am bound to protocol. William is also doing well; it seems that the army was the only way for him to start giving into authority. They put him in his place rather quickly in that respect._

_Uncle, I have been wanting to ask you about something. I recently received a letter from Papa that I found very concerning. I honestly believe he’s lying...isn’t he? He went on for about a paragraph and a half about how he was doing perfectly fine and he has been productive at work. I think what really pushed it past the point of belief, though, was the fact that he mentioned improvement in his interactions with clients. I would love it if that was our reality, but we both know that it wouldn’t happen seemingly overnight. I would greatly appreciate it if you could tell me how he is really doing. I would like to think he wouldn’t lie to me, but sometimes I really don’t know. In all honesty, I thought he was a better liar than that; it was quite ridiculous to read. I know he doesn’t like people looking after him, but he is going to have to realize that it is for his own good. I am glad you are there with him as often as you are._

_With deepest gratitude,_

_~ Gustave_

* * *

**_OCTOBER 1915_ **

_Hello Gustave,_

_I am thankful to hear that all is going well for you. I believe we are all curious to know what you are working on, but I understand if you are not allowed to share that information. In regards to William, I am glad someone was able to teach him some discipline because God knows nobody here was capable._

_In regards to your father, I wish I was not the one who had to tell you the truth, but I think we both know he will not. I regret to inform you that he is, in fact, lying to you. I believe it is because he doesn’t want you to worry, though, to be frank, I am worried about him, so you have the right to as well. I have seen your father at his very lowest but this is a level I had yet to see until now. It is almost like he has stopped functioning entirely; he eats only out of necessity and barely speaks a word to anyone. He has been having trouble sleeping as well, so much so that it’s glaringly obvious. I arrive some mornings to find him hunched over the kitchen table with his eyes barely open. I try and ask him why and he simply says, “Gustave” or “Nightmares.” I do not know what he is seeing in those dreams but one can only imagine. On those days I try to take him to his room to sleep yet he refuses; he has been sleeping in your room instead. It seems that is the only place he can sleep where the nightmares are tolerable. When I ask him what I can do to help, he does not say a word. He either stares into space or goes into your room and pulls a well-worn copy of_ The Wizard of Oz _off of the shelf. Perhaps you can share with me the significance of that particular book, as it is lost on me. He would have been correct in telling you that my security business is doing well, but he is the one I am keeping safe. Though Sasha seems to be doing my job for me when I am not around; she is always right by his side and she comes to get me if he needs me when I am there._

_I have known your father for a long time and one thing he will never ask of anyone is help. He does not want you to worry; in fact, he does not want anyone to worry. In his mind, nobody should be held responsible for him except him. Something you must understand is that that is the only way he survived for a large portion of his life. He is not used to people caring about him consistently. You are the reason he started taking care of himself again, so without you here, he seems to have reverted back to his old ways._

_I do not tell you this as a way to get you home sooner; you have a job to do and you need to be there to do it. However, you deserve to know the truth. Maybe if you tell him to take care of himself again he might actually listen, for my words seem to be falling on deaf ears. Please take care of yourself._

_~ Nadir_

* * *

**_NOVEMBER 1915_ **

_Uncle Nadir,_

_I knew he was lying but I didn’t think it was that bad. I really wish Papa wasn’t so stubborn. I will try to tell him to get better, but who knows if he will listen to me? I think the worst part about all of this is that I wish I could say I was shocked. Something in my gut told me that he was lying but my heart still held out hope that he wasn’t. I’m not angry at him for doing it; I just wish he hadn’t. It is of no help to him if he is hiding things like this from me. I wish I could come home tomorrow and be with him, to be with all of you, for that matter, but I know you are right. I was called here for a reason and I cannot leave until my job is done._

_I cannot express how grateful I am for the fact that you are there with him. I hate to think what he would do if he was alone. In regards to that book, you should know that Papa and I used to read it together when one of us wasn’t feeling well. It became a sort of tradition._

_Please tell everyone I am okay and that William and I are keeping out of trouble. On the topic of William, you should know that he resents your comment about him being impossible to discipline._

_~ Gustave_

* * *

**_DECEMBER 1915_ **

_Hello Papa,_

_This is actually very hard to tell you, so I will just be blunt. I know you lied to me. I was told everything that has been actually going on at home. Don't be mad at the others; I asked them to tell me. I know you didn’t want me to worry and I am sorry I didn’t believe you, but something seemed very off in your last letter to me. I am not upset with you for lying, so don’t start feeling guilty about that. I just wish you would have told me the truth the first time. You should know that I am worried and I would have been either way, so telling the truth would not have made much difference._

_I know you are not used to having people who care about you in your life, and I know it has been just you and me for a long time, so it must be an adjustment not having me around. However, I do need you to take care of yourself; if not for your own sake, then for mine. It has been an adjustment here as well not having you around all the time. It feels so strange that the only way I can talk to you is through letters. You cannot imagine how hard it has been to not be able to tell anyone what I am working on. I am so used to being able to tell you everything and now I am being forced to keep this secret._

_I need you to promise me that you will take care of yourself. That means eating regularly and taking care of your personal hygiene. Talk with people, please. I know that Maddie has been there and so has Uncle Nadir. Even talk to Sasha if nobody is around. I have been told that dogs can be very good listeners. I want to ask you to sleep regularly as well, but neither of us has ever kept a normal sleep schedule, so I would sound like a hypocrite._

_I don’t say this in order to sound like a boss or to make you feel like you are incapable of living without me. I just need to know that you are taking care of yourself beyond just waking up in the morning._

_I love you very much, Papa._

_~ Gustave_


	15. Hello, My Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> letters, part two of four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updated 11-16-20

**_DECEMBER 1915_**

_My dearest, Gustave_

_I hope all has been well for you, or at least as good as it possibly can be during a time like this. I am anxious to hear as much about your position in the engineering division as possible; I'm sure it holds your interest to some extent given your interest in architecture and the training from your father. Tell me how you've been. I miss you terribly; not getting to walk down the hallways at school with your hand in mine is a strange feeling._

_How is William? I hope you're keeping him out of trouble, but I hope he's keeping you in check as well. Let him know that Jane misses him very much and that she is hoping to hear from him soon. All she ever does is fidget with the promise ring that he gave to her. I caught her crying with it clutched in her hands more than once, so please tell him to try and write to her when he can._

_Now that all of those formalities are out of the way, I can tell you what has been on my mind for days now; not having you here to talk to is painful. Mother is insisting upon taking me to every social event that happens amongst friends of her and Father. I know you are aware that I'm not one for massive parties, but that isn't even the worst part of this entire ordeal. While I don't mind a nice evening out with friends, what makes it so miserable is that she introduces me to every eligible young bachelor in the room, as if she expects me to just fall into their arms and forget you even exist! Of course, she is disappointed every time, as I simply have polite conversations with the young gentleman before I put an end to it. I would never want to be on the arm of any of them; all I want is to have you back with me, holding my hand._

_I'm not sure what's gotten into her. I know she likes you and can see that I truly do love you; she would have to be blind to miss that. And yet she persists in her efforts! I mentioned it to Jane and she said it was a matter of status. That because you are not of noble birth, my personal social status - and hers by extension - will drop should we marry. I despise this social hierarchy and all that it dictates. We marry for power, but all I want to do is marry for love, to marry you. You know, though, that no matter what happens or what anyone says, I am going to love you now and until the end of time._

_That aside, I do have a little plan to tell you about. Here, in your absence, I have set my mind to getting to know your father better. The pain in his eyes with you gone is something that I cannot bear to see, especially after seeing just how sweet he can be. I have seen him open up and enjoy his time with others. When we first got to meet each other and talk, I saw him truly break out of that shell that you've told me about. Now that you've left, though, he has almost completely closed himself off to everyone. I go over to try and visit with him, but I often end up only talking to Mister Khan or William's mother, should they happen to be there. I never get to talk to your father. I want to help him so desperately, but I've no idea where to even start. If you have any suggestions regarding how I can do that, do tell me. I want him to know that he isn't alone._

_I love you more than I can ever put into words. Please write to me as soon as you can._

_All my love,_

_Lara_

* * *

**_JANUARY 1916_ **

_My dearest, Lara,_

_Hello, my love. Everything has been alright here, and as much as I know you’re curious about what I’m doing here, I’m afraid I can’t tell you. That’s the procedure, so I do apologize. You are not alone in wondering, though, as my father asked me the same question. You are right to assume that my love of architecture and the training Papa has given me comes into play here in my division; it certainly helps keep me engaged._

_William is doing fine as well. With regards to Jane, trust me; I have told him to write to her, but he’s the slightest bit nervous about saying the wrong thing in his letter. He’s written about four drafts of his first letter at this point but has dubbed all of them not good enough to send to her. I’ve read them all and think they’re all lovely, but what do I know? Tell Jane to be patient - he’s trying his best to be romantic, which we both know could mean that she might get this letter hand-delivered by the time he finishes it._

_In regards to what you mentioned about your mother, I am truly sorry that you had to tell me through a letter. I am also sorry that you have to put up with that, but you don't have to worry at all. I am going to come home to you, no matter what it takes for me to ensure that happens. I know that your mother will never fully approve of me; my status is lower than your own, the circumstances of my parentage aren’t ideal in her eyes. There are countless factors that contribute to her disapproval, and there is nothing that I can really do or say to change that, but the reason behind her disapproval is utterly archaic. Her personal view of me keeps her from seeing just how much I adore you. I trust that you would ignore the men your mother throws your way, you should know that. You, Lara, are what makes me wake up every morning; knowing that every day I am here means I am one day closer to going home and being with you. I wear your locket beneath my uniform so your image can stay close to my heart, just as you always will. Never forget that, love._

_Now...Papa. I have heard that things have not been going well for him, to the point that he even tried to pull the wool over my eyes with regards to how much he's struggling. One thing that I've learned over the course of my time with him is that isolation is his best coping mechanism, so it might be difficult to pull him out of that mindset. He may not want anything to do with anyone at the present moment, including you, even with how much he likes you, so don't be offended if he shuts you out at first. One thing is for certain, though; when dealing with my father and his emotional strife, persistence is the only way in. It took me some time to learn that, but I have come to realize that there is only one way to deal with him in scenarios like this. He is going to try to shut you out, but you cannot let him do that successfully._

_I know it sounds daunting, but he really is just a stubborn and broken man. Once you manage to get through to him, though, he lets you stay close because he recognizes just how much you care about him. He has put up countless walls over the course of his life to protect his fragile heart from the endless abuse and persecution that he has faced, but they keep out the love and affection simultaneously. He has been hurt so badly by so many people dear to him that he is constantly prepared to face that again, hence the isolation. If you can break through those walls, though, you are going to do a world of good for him. Uncle Nadir can only help so much; Papa needs your gentility and kindness._

_I fully support this plan of yours. Keep me up to date with your progress. I'm worried about him and I want him to get the help and emotional support that he needs, and you are just the person who will be able to provide that._

_I love you, Lara. I hope to be home holding you in my arms very soon. Give everyone a hug on my behalf._

_Yours,_

_Gustave_


	16. A Heart to Heart and Face to Face Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lara gets through to Erik.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updated 11-17-20

_**JANUARY 1916** _

_**LARA**_

I arrived at Gustave’s house, only to find myself hesitating to knock on the door as my mind tried to figure out if there was a point in going in at all. I had been going over almost every day after school for the past few weeks with the intention of talking to Gustave’s father, but every time I tried, he was locked away in his study; I hadn’t been able to get in more than a few words with him. Gustave told me that he could be a very stubborn man, but I didn’t know where to begin. He and I seemed to be on good terms when Gustave was here, but ever since he left, it was almost like he wanted nothing to do with me. However, something I didn’t think he had accounted for was that I could be just as stubborn. So, with my somewhat shaky hand, I knocked on the door, but my heart sank a little when Mister Khan answered instead of who I had wanted to see. 

“Good afternoon, Lara,” he said with what was clearly a forced smile. He seemed tired and almost worn out, as there were noticeable dark circles under his eyes and my mind immediately filled with possibilities of what might be happening at the house. 

“Hello. Is Erik here?” I inquired. To ask a question I already knew the answer to seemed to be the only way to keep things going in terms of conversation. I knew that Erik had hardly left his home since Gustave left, but the question still came from a place of hope. 

With a deep sigh from Mister Khan, I had my answer; that alone told me that he was home, but was locked away again. “Please come in, I was just fixing up something to eat.” He gestured for me to step inside and I followed him to the kitchen without a word. “Would you like anything?”

“No, thank you,” I replied with a small smile as I took a seat at the table. Then it hit me; Mister Khan and Erik had been friends for years. He had to have an idea about how I could get through to him. “Actually, there is something I would like your help with.”

He barely looked up from his plate of food before as he replied, “And what would that be?”

“I have been wanting to get to know Gustave’s father in his absence, but it seems like he wants nothing to do with me. Do you have any ideas as to how I could get through to him? You know him best.”

He seemed shocked at my question at first, like he had just been told a deep secret, but he left his plate at the counter and joined me at the kitchen table. “Well dear, Erik is a very complex person. He has seen a lot in his life and has had to go through unspeakable things. A lot of them are not my stories to tell. Before I continue, though, I need to know how much you already know about him and Gustave’s mother,” he said

“Gustave told me how my uncle and his mother were married and how Gustave rightfully holds him responsible for his mother's death.” There was a sense of anxiety building up inside of me, I noticed. I was trying to prepare myself for what I would hear but I had no idea what to expect.

There was a small chuckle from Mister Khan before he said, “Well then, he really did give you the bare minimum of the story.” There was a slight pause before he continued: “I suppose I should start at the beginning. I am sure you know of the great opera house in Paris, the one that fell victim to a terrible fire.”

“I know of its history, as well as the rumours of a ghost there, but I know it must have been superstition,” I replied, trying to recall what I had read about the Opera Populaire when I had been going through my father's papers, as it seemed that my family had been some sort of a sponsor for that theatre.

“Actually, Lara, there was a ghost. He called himself ‘The Phantom of the Opera,’ and he was very real…in fact, you have met him.”

It took me a moment to put the pieces together, and once I had, I could not easily hide the shock on my face. “Are you telling me what I think you are?”

“You are a smart girl. Yes, Erik was that fabled ghost. He had been living in the catacombs under the Opera House for years before he met Christine.” There was a long pause and he seemed to be getting his thoughts in order so he could continue: “She was only a chorus girl at the time, but when Erik heard her sing, he was convinced he had found an angel on earth. He began giving her lessons so that she could one day have a solo career, but every time he was with her, he was slowly falling more and more in love with her. It wasn’t until your uncle arrived that Erik truly felt threatened. He became jealous and went to rather extreme lengths to try and keep Christine in his life. Though she did admit to loving him, Erik still let her leave with Raoul, since he knew that he could not provide her with the life she deserved. She returned to him for a night but Erik knew that, if she stayed with him, she would be hunted down with him. He couldn’t bear to do that to her, so he left before she woke up, and that morning, he set sail for America.”

He stopped the story then; he must have noticed that I needed a moment to process everything I was hearing. Erik must have been heartbroken; I could not imagine what he had experienced at that moment. 

“So that is when she married my uncle and then Gustave was born,” I said. 

Nadir nodded at me and took my comment as a sign to continue the story: “Erik regrets leaving that night more than any other thing he has done in his life, and believe me, there is a long list. In America, he designed a carnival of sorts to generate his income. Ten years passed and he just could not take it anymore; he needed to see her again. So he invited her to perform and she came, bringing Raoul and Gustave with her. Briefly after their reunion, Christine admitted that Gustave was his child and not Raoul’s. Now, he hasn’t told me all the details, but the night Christine performed the aria that Erik wrote for her, your uncle boarded a boat alone with the intentions of leaving Gustave and Christine on Coney Island. That same night, Christine was shot. Erik had made her a promise that he would always keep Gustave safe, so when he got called to war, something in him...snapped. He went back to how he lived before Gustave entered his life.”

I was utterly taken aback by what I had just heard. It was no wonder that Gustave never told me any of that; there was so much more to Erik’s story than I thought. Him exploding the night he met my parents began to make more and more sense. I needed to know more, I needed to understand how to get through to him, to make him see that he didn’t need to go backwards. 

“How did he live before?” I inquired. 

“Well, that’s just it. He didn’t live,” Nadir replied. 

“What do you mean?” I felt I could see puzzle pieces floating around me, but I just couldn’t find out how they fit together. 

He took a deep breath, collected himself and explained: “Erik has lived most of his life in isolation. He believes he does better that way, and he is stubborn about it. He can live in his fantasy and believe he is fine all he wants, but he sees no need to look after himself when he gets like this. He won’t eat or sleep; he just works. Working would be great, but it isn't work for the business. He will pick up any flight of fancy that pops into his head and run with it until the next one comes along. Gustave was the one who made him focus. Erik having a son may have saved his life; when he and I reunited here, I almost didn’t recognize him.”

“What is he doing right now?” I was formulating a plan to go up and talk to him, but I did not want to interrupt him if he was being productive.

Mister Khan paused for a moment and looked confused. “It’s silent. The record isn’t playing. I don’t know what he is doing. I should probably go check on him," he said as he started to stand up out of his chair. 

“Please, you sit and eat," I said as I sat a hand on his shoulder. "It looks like you need a break. I’ll try and go talk to him.”

He nodded to me and I took it as a sign of thanks. “Good luck, dear. Remember to be persistent; it’s the only way to get through to him sometimes.”

“Thank you for telling me.”

He let out a small laugh. “It’s not like either of those two boys was going to tell you.” 

I knew where the study was, but when I reached the top of the stairs, the only thing I felt was lost. I felt like I was intruding on his life. I had no right to know the things that I knew; I was only his son’s sweetheart, I didn’t deserve the information I had been given. What difference did it make to him whether he got to know me or not? He obviously did not want to see me; otherwise, he would have acknowledged me, wouldn’t he? He would have met me for tea as we had planned at the train station. He would have sat with me whenever I visited. 

I was making a mistake, overstepping my boundaries. Mother always told me that my persistence was going to get me into undesirable locations, that my curiosity was not going to get me to where I needed to be. She was right. I needed to remember where I stood in the world. 

I was about to go downstairs when I heard a loud thud and some cursing come from behind the door to the study. My feet worked faster than my brain and the next thing I knew, I was inside the study looking at Erik, who was kneeling on the ground in front of a record player. 

“No, no, no, please. Not now, please…” he pleaded. I didn’t think he realized I had entered the room because he was still lost in his thoughts, clutching the record for dear life. “Please Christine, I can’t lose you again. Not now…I can’t lose both of you.”

I gathered that that was what Mister Khan had been talking about when he said that the record wasn’t playing. I wondered what could have been on that record that would make Erik talk to Gustave’s mother. However, I did notice that he was holding the record at the edges and, given that his knuckles were white, he was going to cut himself if he didn’t let go. 

Trying to make as little noise as possible, I knelt down beside him and placed my hands on top of both of his. The initial shock of my presence caused him to seize up and grip it tighter, but after that subsided, he loosened up and I was able to take it away from him and set it beside us. I was able to get a look at his hands and thankfully, they didn’t seem to be cut. I turned my head again to look at his face and saw that he still had his mask on. It was surprising to see that, even in such a state of emotional turmoil, he would still wear it. Although I did notice that his hair was different; it was patchy and lighter rather than slicked back and jet black as usual. 

We sat there for what felt like a long time before either of us spoke. One of us needed to say something and something in my gut told me that it would not be him. 

“I know," I managed to say, finally breaking the hard silence. He stopped breathing as heavily and looked up at me. He still didn’t say a word but his expression told me he was confused, and I concluded that I should probably keep going if I wanted to be able to have a conversation: “I know the story of an opera house in Paris, and the story of a carnival owner in America.”

He seemed to understand what I had meant by that, yet still, he said nothing. So I kept going, thinking that eventually, he would have to say something: “I am beginning to understand how much Gustave means to you, and I think I know him well enough to know that he would absolutely hate to see you like this.”

“He means everything to me. I know he would hate to see me like this, I just don’t know how else I can be. I suppose that, once you have everything you have ever wanted, just for it to be taken from you, it hurts more than if you never had it at all," he finally admitted. He still wasn't looking me in the eyes, but kept his gaze focused on his hands. 

Something about that mask was making it feel like we could not have a face to face conversation, and I knew what I had to do. Slowly, I raised my hands to his face, but I had barely touched the surface of his mask, hardly registering the porcelain material, before he shrank away from me. 

“It’s alright. I am not afraid," I assured him before I continued. Gently, I slipped my fingers under the bottom edge of the mask and lifted it from his head. Once it was off, I examined it for a short moment and took in its details in a way I hadn't been able to before; I admired how well-shaped it was to fit his face, ran my finger over the carved eyebrow and nose. Much effort had been put into making it look as beautiful as it was and to hide whatever was beneath it. 

As I set the mask down next to the record, it was only then that his fixation on it began to make sense. The label bore her name: Christine Daaé. I realized that he had been trying to hear her again, which made so much sense; he sought security in the woman who had given him just that. 

After placing the mask down, I turned back to see him covering his face with his hand. “I need to be absolutely sure that you are prepared for what you are about to see,” he said quietly. His hand was shaking over his face and he clearly didn’t believe me when I said that I was not afraid. It was evident that words were not going to get through to him, so I decided to use actions instead; I placed my hand over his, noticing that the size comparison was almost laughable. He resisted for a moment but eventually, I was allowed to remove his hand and finally see his full face. 

I was shocked for a moment, noting the parts of his face that the mask was meant to replace, but quickly realized that I truly was not afraid of him, for there was nothing for me to be scared of; I knew enough about him to know that he would not hurt me. 

As I looked at him, I realized something and a large smile spread across my face. He seemed flabbergasted at my expression, so I thought I should explain myself: “I’m still not afraid. But now the crookedness of Gustave’s face makes more sense.”

Tears were welling up in his eyes and I realized that I must have struck a deep nerve in him. As a sign of assurance, I leaned over and kissed the distorted side of his face. That was when the tears broke through their wall and started to fall down his face, so I pulled him in for a hug, which turned out to be something we both needed. 

“It’s okay to miss him; I miss him too. But he has never broken a promise, and he promised he was going to come home. He will want to come home and see that you were okay when he was gone, though,” I whispered to him while we sat there. It felt good to finally be with someone who understood; Mother and Father had tried, but they simply were not as close to Gustave. It was good to feel like I could be open about everything with Erik, because he not only understood my pain, but was living through it as well. 

“You would think I would be used to being alone. I have been for most of my life… but voluntarily and involuntarily are two totally different things. I suppose I got so used to having him here that it has become so hard trying to imagine that there is any other way for me to live,” he replied, still hugging me, and I could feel his grip tightening on my back as he spoke. He was choking up to the point where I was surprised at his restraint. “The only way I could navigate that feeling was by going back in time, in a sense. I went back to before Gustave and Christine were in my life because I knew what to do then; things were in my control. Now, something as important as his survival is out of my hands and I don’t know what to do. I’ve never lived in such a state of uncertainty.”

“I cannot imagine what that must be like. For things to be so inconsistent.” I wasn’t sure what to say. What did you say to someone who has gone through all of what he has? Oh, how I wish I knew. I wish I had a way to comfort him beyond empty words that he had probably heard a thousand times in the past while. 

An idea came to me then, but I decided it was best if I was looking him in the eyes when I told him, so I pulled away from our embrace and gave him a smile. “But maybe we can be a consistency in each other’s lives now.” 

Instantly, confusion spread across his face. “What do you mean?” he asked. 

“Well, maybe we can rely on each other to be a constant factor. We can lean on each other, in a way.” I was trying to explain my idea, but I realized that I probably should have thought of a proper explanation before I said it out loud. “We can do that with certainty because I can promise you that I am not going anywhere.”

He didn’t say anything, which had me quite worried. I thought maybe I had overstepped my boundaries, that I mistook our current interaction for more than it really was. But, after a few minutes of agonizing anxiety, I got a reaction; without a word, he hugged me again. I knew for a fact that if my mother were there, she would deem that to be very inappropriate but I didn’t care in the slightest. In that moment, I felt a sense of accomplishment; I had made it through to him. 

After a minute or so of hugging me, he let go; there was a smile spread across his face there was something that told me that he hadn’t looked like that in a long time. He only said, “Thank you, Lara,” but those simple words made my heart feel more whole than it had been since Gustave left. 

“It is my pleasure, Erik,” I said softly. 

We were still seated on the floor with Christine’s record and his mask lying not too far away, so I picked up the former and examined it. “You know, I would love to hear her voice. Gustave tells me she was amazing. Would you like to see if we can get this to work again?” In truth, I had heard her voice before on occasions when I had visited while Erik was out but when I saw a sparkle in his eyes at the prospect of introducing me to her, I kept the truth to myself. 

“It couldn’t hurt to try,” he said as he turned around to retrieve the record player that sat on the floor behind him. 

Once we took a good look at things, it turned out all that needed to be done was cleaning the needle and the grooves on the record. It seemed that all those years of use without maintenance had caused a buildup of dust and small debris. Once we had done that, the record played almost perfectly, though it became somewhat evident that a new copy may be needed soon. Once it began playing, a beautiful voice filled the room. It was one of the most perfect things I had ever heard; I could only imagine what it must have been like to hear it live and crystal clear. 

“I can see why you loved her,” I said as we sat and listened to the song. 

He chuckled at the comment like I couldn’t have been more wrong. “I loved her for more than just her voice. That may have been the reason I found her, but the person behind the masterpiece was more than I ever could have deserved.” He was looking at the record sleeve with a longing expression as he continued: “She was so much stronger than me. She had such a big heart that I was surprised it all fit inside her. She filled the dungeon of my black despair with more light than I ever thought possible. She was too good for this world and definitely too good for me. I think that was why she was taken from me, time and time again. She had a pure heart and that made her more deadly than anyone I have ever known.”

“I suppose she was to you what Gustave is to me. He makes me feel like I am not so alone in the world. Like I am more than what I am. When I am with him, I know I don’t have to put up the stiff front. I don’t have to be a lady,” I said as I took a deep breath, trying to keep the tears at bay. I hadn’t been able to talk about everything I felt with anyone for so long. It was like I hadn’t processed everything until right then. All of a sudden, I came to the realization that the last letter I received from him might have been the last letter I would _ever_ receive from him. Everything was hitting me at once and I wasn’t so sure I could handle it. “Nobody could comprehend what was taken from me when he left. He was one of the only people in the world who understood me beyond what can be seen on the surface. I was allowed to express who I am around him because he loves me anyway no matter what.” 

I was about to start crying when I felt Erik’s arms wrap around me. Immediately I felt safe, like I was in a place where it was okay to cry about that sort of thing.

“It’s okay, dear,” he spoke calmly as he smoothed down my hair, trying to soothe me as best he could. “You know that he would be in shambles if he knew you were crying.”

Once he let me go, I began to wipe my face, knowing I must have looked like a complete mess. “He really would. He’s always hated seeing people cry,” I said. 

“He’s been like that since he was very young,” Erik explained as he stood up off of the ground and went to sit at one of the chairs near his desk. “Whether it was me, Will, or even Madeleine. That boy hates seeing people in pain.”

“Gustave never tells me any stories about when he was younger,” I said as I got off the floor as well. “Maybe you have some funny ones that I can annoy him with when he gets back.”

A wide smile spread across his face as he said: “I have a couple... “

* * *

_I was woken up by Gustave jumping on the other side of my bed. I had been sleeping close to the edge and nearly ended up falling off. “What’s happening?” I asked. I was so confused, and I knew that I still sounded like I was half asleep. My question, however, was only answered by more jumping. Once I sat up, though, it seemed to satisfy Gustave that I was awake. He stopped jumping and was sitting cross-legged on the bed by the time I looked over at him. “Are we late for something? Are you alright?”_

_“Papa look outside!” He gestured out the window with such an excited look on his face that I thought he might combust. “It snowed last night! Let’s go outside and play!”_

_We had only been in London for a couple of months, though I had to admit that they definitely got more snow than what he was probably used to in France. “Give me a moment to get dressed and eat something first, Gustave.”_

_“Let’s go now! If I give you time to get dressed, you might change your mind and get distracted with something.” He read me like a book. That boy was getting to know me too well._

_The next thing I knew, he had grabbed me by the arm and was pulling me out of bed; clearly, I had underestimated his strength. “Let me get my slippers first,” I said._

_“Fine. Hurry, though!”_

_I quickly grabbed my slippers, and once they were on, the pulling on my arm resumed. I barely made it down the stairs without tripping. He dragged me out the back door and the cold wind hit my face like a brick wall._

_“It’s amazing!” I looked down and found that Gustave had already started playing and running outside. The look on his face was one of absolute joy. His smile made me forget the cold, making it worth it to be out there in that temperature. “Come play with me, Papa!”_

_“I’m alright with just watching. You have fun,” I replied._

_Instantly, his shoulders slumped in disappointment. “Please, Papa,” he begged._

_“I’ll just watch from over here.” I had looked away for a mere second, only to be smacked in the face with something absolutely freezing. I turned back at him to see that his jaw was slack, his face as white as the snow._

_“I’m so sorry, Papa! I didn’t mean to hit you in the face. It was supposed to hit the wall to get your attenti-” He was interrupted by me returning his snowball with one of my own. I felt that it was a good way to respond and prove that I wasn’t upset. He was always so afraid of seeing me mad; he had told me some stories of when he had made the Vicomte upset, but I knew it was a deep rooted fear nonetheless._

_It was also partially for revenge._

_“You have no idea what you have started, my boy,” I said._

_Within seconds, the colour had returned to his face and he had crouched down to make another snowball, with me right there with him. We spent the next half an hour or so chasing each other around the yard, trying to hit each other with as many snowballs as possible. I made them in sets of five or so, whereas he made them as he went._

_“Your lack of preparation will fail you, soldatino,” I called out to him at one point while I was crouched down making more ammunition._

_He gave me a toothy smile and caught his breath before saying, “Maybe it actually helps me, Papa. I can move around as I please. You are stuck in one spot.”_

_Right after he said that, I was hit right in the stomach and decided to make a show of it. “Direct hit. This is the end of me,” I proclaimed as I fell back into the snow._

_I heard his laughter as he ran to my side and laid down next to me. We lay there in the snow and just laughed for a good while. There was a warm feeling in my chest that kept me from feeling the cold all around me. That was what I had always wanted; those moments where all that mattered were the smiles and the fun we were having. I only wish I had been in his life for more of them. He was growing so fast. Eventually, I was going to run out of moments like that, no matter how much I wished I could keep them forever. I had never gotten those moments when I was his age and I would hate for him to miss out on them the way I had._

_After we had stopped laughing, Gustave rolled away from me and laid himself out straight. “What are you doing?” I asked._

_“I’m making snow angels,” he explained as he began moving his arms and legs. “You should make one too, Papa.”_

_With little protest, I began to copy his movements. I had never done it before so I simply followed his example. After about a minute, we stood up and looked at our results. His was so much smaller than mine and much cleaner. Mine was very long, to say the least, and uneven. One side seemed to be shorter than the other and I had no idea how that had happened._

_“Let’s make a snowman, Papa!” Gustave exclaimed as he went to the other side of the yard. I followed him and by the time I got there, he had already begun rolling the first snowball._

_It took longer than expected, but eventually, we had a somewhat proportional snowman. It also ended up being slightly crooked, but it didn’t seem to bother either of us. It was the fact that we made it together that made it perfect. Without saying a word, Gustave ran inside and returned within moments with some buttons and a carrot._

_“He needs a face,” he explained as he began adding the accessories to the top snowball. Once he was done, he stepped back to admire his work. The face was symmetrical and rather funny, but it was perfect to him regardless. As I looked at him admiring our work, I noticed that he was shivering._

_“Gustave, are you getting cold?” I asked._

_“I’m fine, Papa. What do you want to do next?” he responded, but right after those words left his mouth, his teeth began chattering. He was clearly cold and simply in denial._

_“Gustave, come on, we should go inside and get changed. You are shivering.” I went to take his hand so we could walk back inside, but he shook his hand free and stayed firm where he was. “Why don’t you want to go inside?”_

_“Because if we go inside, you’ll start working and we are having so much fun out here,” he admitted, looking everywhere except my eyes. I had been working very hard as of late and Gustave was clearly feeling a bit neglected. I never meant to do that to him, but that was the cost of trying to run the business._

_I crouched down to his level in order to make sure he was looking at me and so that he knew I was looking at him. “Gustave, we do need to go inside. You are shivering and I don’t want you to get sick. I know I have been working a lot lately and I am truly sorry for that. How about when we go inside we get changed into some dry clothes and I will make us some tea and hot cocoa? We can spend the rest of the day playing games inside. Does that sound good?”_

_A small smile spread across his face and he nodded at me, taking my hand as I stood up. We made our way to the back door and for a moment, I looked back at all the disruptions we had made in the once smooth snow. That was the evidence of one of the best mornings I had had in a long time._

* * *

Erik and I had been laughing throughout the story. The mental image I was having of him and Gustave running around in the snow in their pyjamas was absolutely hilarious. “You two must have looked like utter fools to your neighbours had they looked out,” I said. 

“We probably did, though I don’t recall either of us caring enough to look,” he replied, still laughing at the thought. 

“I’ll have to make sure I challenge him to a snowball fight when he gets back.” With that, we both burst out laughing again at the absurd mental image. 

Once we had calmed down from laughing, there was a comfortable silence between us. There was none of the distasteful awkwardness that I would usually get if I were around my parents' friends or if I was at one of the ridiculous parties Mother had been dragging me to; I felt at ease with him.

I looked at the time then to see that it was almost half-past four and remembered that I was supposed to see Jane in about an hour. She had been taking things a lot worse than me; she and William had only been together a few weeks before the boys had gotten their letters. 

“You know, Gustave isn’t the only one who left a sweetheart behind,” I confessed to Erik, who immediately turned to me, the look of confusion making me laugh quietly. “What I mean is that William and Jane had hardly been together for three weeks before he had to go. She is still terribly upset about it.”

“I know she is. She has been here once or twice to talk to me about it; I knew they decided to start courting after our day at the beach just after the boys got their letters, but I’m sure I have no idea of the extent of the details,” Erik said with a nod. “I might know more than Maddie and Charles, though. I’m not sure how much they know outside of the fact that they started courting.” 

“Well, I know for a fact that Jane hasn’t told her parents about her relationship with William because my mother has yet to ask me a million questions about it,” I said. 

Erik smirked and looked over to his desk, where there was a picture of the two boys together when they were younger. “You know, the whole coward facade sounds nothing like William. He was always the more outgoing of the two.”

“That much is easy to tell. William is always finding new ways to get into trouble and Gustave is always finding ways to get him out of it.” This warranted a laugh out of Erik, and something told me he had laughed more while we had been speaking than he had in a long time. He had a reminiscent look on his face and I simply had to know more. “What are you thinking about?” I inquired. 

“Well, I just noticed that William and Gustave are almost exactly like Nadir and I. When I was younger, I was a lot more outspoken. I didn’t care who I was talking to and how I was talking to them. As you can imagine, this got me into a lot of trouble, especially in Persia. But Nadir was always there to get me out of it.” He looked down at his hands and smiled. “Though sometimes I was the one who had to get him out of trouble, it seems we’ve always needed each other. I’m only laughing because I cannot believe I hadn’t noticed that little parallel sooner. “

“I suppose it must be rather obvious when you put it like that.” 

“It really does,” Erik replied. “But going back to Jane, is she doing alright? When I see her, I can tell she’s been a bit fragile, but I would think she would be a bit more open with you, as close as she is with me." 

I looked down at my hands. I wish I could have said that she was alright, but she had been an absolute wreck. The worst part was that she hadn't told her parents, so she couldn’t even go to them for support. “You know, I think she’d be doing better if William would send her a letter. I gave him her mailing address but she still has yet to receive anything,” I replied. 

“I am sure he will send something soon. From what I’ve heard they have been keeping the boys busy with whatever it is they are building. Gustave is practically nocturnal thanks to my genetics, but William is not as accustomed to not getting sleep.”

“I hope so. I wish there was some way to help her, though. Like a way to know him without him being here.”

“Well, Maddie has better stories than me, but I like to think I had a say in how that boy was raised, so I do have some stories about him.”

* * *

_I had been getting lunch ready inside while the boys played outside, only to be interrupted when William came running through the back door._

_“Uncle Erik, Gustave fell outside! I think he hurt himself,” he exclaimed. I immediately dropped what I had been doing and ran outside to find Gustave sitting on the grass. As I walked over to him, William explained what had happened: “We were playing and he tripped on something, but I don’t know what. He fell on the grass, but he still hit his head pretty hard.”_

_When we finally got to him, Gustave looked at me and the first thing I saw was all the blood pouring down his chin. I got down on my knees and panic filled my mind at all the possibilities of what could be broken. “Are you alright? Are you in pain? Do you feel dizzy?” I asked._

_“Well, to answer the questions in order: yes, no and no,” he replied. He was acting smart; another quality he seemed to have inherited from his mother and me, though at least Christine was more eloquent about it. I gave his mouth a quick inspection to find that he had cut his lip and that seemed to have been the source of all the blood._

_“William, could you please go get me a washcloth? Make sure it is slightly damp.” With his simple instructions, he went running inside; I knew that William had been at the house often enough to know where things were kept._

_In a few minutes, he returned to my side with what I had asked him to get. While most children his age would have waited at the side in the presence of such an injury. William was right there next to Gustave as I cleaned him up. Those two boys had only known each other for a year or so, but it was like they had been brought up together since birth._

_Once I had gotten most of the blood out of the way I was able to get a proper look at the cut, which was small considering what had come out of it. “Well, it could have been worse, but it seems to be alright now,” I said._

_Gustave smiled at that, which was when I noticed a gap in his teeth that hadn’t been there a moment before. Instantly all the panic that I had experienced before came flooding back to me. “Gustave, you lost a tooth!”_

_“Yes, I did.” He nodded his head and then lifted up his hand to show me the bloody tooth in his palm. “See, here it is.”_

_“Neither of you thought to mention that earlier?”_

_I was looking at both of the boys for an answer, but William was the first to speak up: “He said he was fine. I wanted to tell you but he insisted that it wasn’t a big deal.”_

_“Because I am fine. I really am, I promise,” Gustave added._

_“But...” I began, but I stopped when I realized I was fighting a losing battle. If he said he was fine, I should believe him. Besides, he didn’t seem to be bothered by any of it. “Alright, if you say you are fine, then that’s the end of it. But if it starts bleeding again, we might have to go to the doctor.”_

_“Alright, Papa.” Gustave agreed to that, at least, but William still looked a little concerned. At least I knew someone was going to tell me if things got worse because something told me that my son would avoid doctors at all costs._

_“Can William and I keep playing?” he asked._

_I sighed and couldn’t help but smile to see that he was so unphased by it all. “Yes, you can keep playing. But I don’t want to see any more gaps in your teeth by the time you come back in,” I said._

_“I promise,” he replied quickly before he stood up again._

_I then turned to William. “The same goes for you. I really don’t want to have to explain something like that to your mother. I doubt she would be pleased.”_

_He quickly nodded before replying, “Believe me, I know.”_

_I smiled at him and ruffled his hair. “Healthy fear of your mother. Good decision.”_

_And with that, those two resumed their playing like nothing had happened. From what I gathered, it was a game where the two of them were at war with something. It was hilarious watching them throw stones and use sticks as guns against an imaginary enemy, almost as if they were training for a battle that they would never fight in._

* * *

“They’re headstrong, the both of them,” Erik admitted. He was smiling at the memory and it felt so good that I was helping him smile. 

“That is one quality they both share, though I think Gustave is more stubborn. William can be swayed after a little convincing. Gustave is next to impossible,” I said, thinking about those few times we’d been caught up in disagreements. 

“Oh definitely. He gets that from me. Us arguing is a bad combination,” Erik explained. I could only imagine what that would be like, considering what I knew about the two of them. “The biggest one must have been when he told me about you.”

I couldn’t keep my shock from manifesting in a baffled expression on my face. “You fought about…me?”

“I suppose he never told you. I can see why. Anyhow, we did, and it was definitely the worst.” I couldn’t tell if he was trying to make me feel better or worse; nevertheless, he continued: “I was not happy at all when I found out who your uncle was. To be fair, neither was Gustave, but I was absolutely livid. I had seen more of the Vicomte than he had and I knew him well, as I’m sure Nadir at least hinted at. So to hear that my son had fallen for that man’s niece was the last thing I wanted to hear. I had been eager to completely eliminate him from my life, but he was being brought into my house through his family. After he got home from his first meal with you and your parents, we had quite the fight. We had never yelled at each other like we did before that and we haven’t yelled at each other like that since then.”

“I never meant to come between you two,” I said quietly as I noticed an all too familiar bubble of guilt rising up in my chest. “Sometimes I wonder why Gustave stays with me after what happened to him.”

It seemed that Erik realized how much my family name weighed on me in my relationship with Gustave. Though he hadn’t told me everything, I did have some idea of what my uncle had done to him and his mother and I could not imagine all the other things he hadn’t told me. I was constantly in disbelief when I saw that he had chosen to stay with me. 

Erik pulled me under his arm again and just held me there for a while before saying, “You know I mean this as no offence to you, but I had wanted Gustave to terminate your relationship entirely when I found out. But Gustave was so passionate about keeping you in his life; it was like nothing I had ever seen from him before. He said that you made him forget everything that had happened, that you make him feel like more than he is. So, in my eyes, there is no question as to why he stays with you; it is because he needs you. You should not feel guilty about something that happened without your knowledge. You are an intelligent young lady; I know you can see that there is no logic in being guilty of something you did not do.”

I gave him a hug from the side, given our position. “Thank you.”

“You are quite welcome. You are practically part of the family at this point.” His comment made a wide smile spread across my face and a warm feeling replaced the guilt that had been growing. 

Without realizing it, my eyes drifted over to the piano, where sheet music was open. My curiosity got the better of me and I had to know what the song was, so, without a word, I stood up and walked over to the piano. 

I sat down on the bench and read through the papers. The title was scrawled out in messy handwriting that looked to have been written a long time ago: _No One Would Listen_. I was tearing up by simply reading the lyrics; I could only imagine the pain Erik must have been feeling when he wrote it. Without thinking, I was able to play the first few notes. Erik had walked over at some point and was standing next to me, the needle having been taken off the record and Christine’s voice no longer filling the room. 

“I remember Gustave saying that he was teaching you to play,” he said. 

Sheepishly, I nodded. “Yes, he was, but I don’t believe I am ready for a song this complex. I would love to hear it, though,” I replied, hoping that would prompt him to play it. 

“Allow me, then,” he said as he sat down next to me and adjusted the papers. He began to play and, at some point or another, I had begun singing. The words were heartbreaking, but the melody was so smooth and calm that one almost did not realize that someone’s soul was being poured out with every word. 

When the song was done, Erik turned to me in astonishment. “You can sing too. My god, you really are perfect for this family,” he said. 

“I am not very good.” I was utterly embarrassed by his remark; I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. Though it did feel good to know that it helped in my acceptance into the family, I did not like singing in front of others. I didn’t know what had possessed me to sing as he played, but something had just felt right. 

“On the contrary, my dear. Though your voice may need some training, it is quite good,” he began, seeming almost enthusiastic about the prospect. “Regardless, it is still beautiful. If you would like, I could help you.”

“You would do that?” I asked, never having considered taking voice lessons before. 

“Of course I would. It would be a shame to leave that talent untapped.”

I couldn’t help but smile. Nobody had ever thought so much of me before. Mother was still opposed to Gustave teaching me piano, so I wondered what she would think of Erik teaching me how to sing. “Thank you. It is easy to sound good when the song is beautiful. Though I have to ask, Erik…how do you deal with it? All the pain that undoubtedly consumes you.”

A sombre expression draped over his face. I felt guilty for bringing that up after we were making such progress, but I needed to know or the question would bother me to no end. “Well, my dear, there is no easy way of putting it. After decades of being alone, the tears stop coming. Eventually, you give in. You accept your perpetually numb state and live with how you are,” he admitted. “But he…he is one of the greatest things to ever happen to me. It was as if the forces of the universe had finally taken a break from causing me torment and given me a reprieve of happiness. I can’t lose him too. I don't know what I’ll do with myself if I do. He gave me a reason to live after all I’ve been through. I promised Christine before I lost her that I would do everything to keep him safe, I can’t break my last vow to her.” 

Tears began to roll down his cheeks again and my first instinct was to hug him. I knew I had said it before but I tried to explain to him again: “We have each other. We’ll wait for him together, and we’ll greet him together when he comes home to our embrace. And Christine hasn’t left you, just as Gustave hasn’t. He is going to come home, just like he promised.” 

We sat there for what felt like an eternity, neither of us wanting to leave. It was clear that that was a heart to heart conversation we had both needed to have.


	17. I Saw Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> letters, part three of four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updated 11-18-20

_**JANUARY 1916** _

_My dearest, Gustave_

_Your advice to be persistent worked perfectly, though I never doubted that it would. I was finally able to speak to your father and we had such a wonderful conversation. We truly were able to connect and come to a mutual understanding of the situation we find ourselves in. I finally feel like I understand him, who he is, how he feels. It felt like I had finally found someone I can talk to about how I feel when you’re not around. We were able to open up to one another and it was everything I could have asked for and more._

_Even before the two of us got a chance to speak, though, when I first got to your house, I got to see your Uncle Nadir and he did not look good at all, Gustave. Even with the little bickering he and your father are so often engaged in, there is always a light in his eyes, a smile on his face. When I saw him, though, he looked absolutely exhausted and there was so much worry on his face. It was sad to see and it was clear that something was weighing on his mind, and I immediately concluded that it had to be your father, based on what you told me. The two of us got to talking, and he gave me more insight into you and your father's lives than I have ever had before. I know that you have hesitated to give me the details because it's hard to talk about and because you think I would be tempted to hunt down my uncle for all that he did to you. Though the option is rather enticing, I am just glad to finally understand your stories. Your Uncle told me about your father's history as the Phantom of the Opera, as well as the beginnings of his relationship with your mother. He told me about his time in America, his career as a businessman, everything that happened that led up to your mother's death. I'm sorry that it ever happened, but I am glad that I finally know. Though I wish I could have heard it from you, I would never want to pry. You should never be afraid to tell me anything, no matter how it may make me feel. I want to be able to support you in any way I can._

_When I got a chance to speak with your father, I found him in a state that absolutely broke my heart; in tears on the floor of his study as he begged his record player to play your mother's record. It ended up just needing to be cleaned, but he looked so distraught at the prospect of it never playing again. I told him I knew your story, he said how much losing you pained him and then...Gustave, I saw him. I took off his mask and he let me move his hand and see his face. Though I was surprised when I saw him initially, after a few moments, I found that there was nothing to be afraid of. It was then that he broke down crying and I realized just how outstanding it was for him to hear that I wasn't afraid of him. I can only imagine the abuses he's faced because of it; perhaps you can tell me sometimes._

_It was with him that I felt safe enough to speak about how I can be myself with you. I feel I cannot tell my parents any of that without hearing another lecture about how to be 'proper' and 'represent my family', so to be able to come clean to your father about all of that was like a massive weight being lifted off of my shoulders. It was a relief to be able to talk to him and have him tell me that all would be well, not criticize me for my comments, and that, I think, is something that made the conversation a truly special one._

_Your father also gave me a couple of stories from when you were little and you best believe that I am never going to let you forget. The thought of you and your father running around in your pyjamas in the snow and you giving him a heart attack when you knocked your tooth out is too priceless to allow you to live them down. Not to mention that revisiting those memories made your father laugh, so there were victories all around._

_The two of us have come to consider each other a major system of support and consistency while you're away. I'm seeing your father much more now, both to visit and to take him up on his offer to give me training in order to improve my voice. I saw one of his compositions on his piano in the study, and while he played, I sang, and he told me it could sound lovely if I was trained, and the rest is history. Hopefully, I'll be able to sing for you when you get home._

_Do me a favour and tell William to write to Jane; she's worried sick about him because she hasn't heard from him at all and I can't do much to comfort her until she knows for sure. Please try and get him to send her a letter._

_Write to me - and your father - as soon as you possibly can. Give him a little extra hope. We both love you very, very much._

_Yours,_

_Lara_

_~_

_**LATE JANUARY1916** _

_Lara,_

_I'm sorry I kept those details about my and Papa's lives a secret from you. It's difficult to talk about the things that happened with your uncle and my mother in America with Papa, never mind coming clean about it all to you. I always wanted to tell you, but the timing was never right for something like that. You're right, I didn't want you to go after your uncle, and I still don't, by any means. I knew you were determined to do it, which I didn't want, though the idea doesn’t strike me as something that would be absolutely terrible. Still, I hate to keep secrets from you, and I'm glad that Uncle Nadir told you what happened. No secrets from now on, I promise._

_I appreciate you taking the time to talk to Uncle Nadir, even if he was telling you stories. I know that he worries constantly about Papa and his well being, even if he doesn't show it all the time. He needs the support almost as much as Papa does; the two of them are like brothers, and for Uncle Nadir to have to see Papa in such a state would break his heart. I know it would. So thank you for being there for him too, my love._

_I'm so glad that you managed to get through to Papa. I knew you would manage to do it. You're just the sort of strong-willed person that can get through to him. To hear that he let you take off his mask and see his face, especially if he is in the emotional state that you described him to be in is absolutely incredible. You were right to assume that kindness from someone seeing his face for the first time is not something he is used to. As for the abuses he has faced, there has been a plethora that I will not put down in writing. I will tell you some, though I don't think it is my place to tell you everything. Your kind of heart makes such an incredible impact on someone like him, who has so long been denied kindness. He appreciates it, even if he doesn't quite say it outright. He has never been adept at conveying his emotions in conversation; he usually prefers the written word. I will never be able to repay you for being there for him when I can't be, for giving him that sense of stability and consistency that a man who has seen the things that he has so desperately needs. It hurts so much to be away from you all for this long._

_Please tell Jane not to worry; William is as insufferable as ever with all of his jokes, but he keeps things lighthearted. Trust me, I have been trying to get him to write a letter to her, but I think he's worried that he'll say something ridiculous. I think he must have written half a dozen drafts, insisting that it has to be perfect. I'm trying to get him to send it soon, so just tell her to wait a little bit longer._

_I miss you all so much. Please continue to take care of each other until I get back, and I cannot wait to hear you sing when I get there._

_All my love,_

_Gustave_


	18. I'm Sorry [...] She Saw Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> letters, part four of four

**_JANUARY 1916_ **

_My dear son,_

_I know that this is a preferable thing to do in person, but I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lied to you about how I was coping, or rather, how I was not coping. I do not know exactly why I lied, but I suppose it was because I had wanted you to worry less. Though I suppose it was a tad overdone when I brought up my communication with clients. I have never wanted to lie to you, you should know that. Recently, however, I have not been myself. I have only been able to truly start functioning again thanks to Nadir and your Lara._

_Another thing you should know is that Lara came to the house to see me. I was an absolute wreck when she found me; truly a state that nobody should have seen me in, least of all her. We ended up talking and I let her take my mask off. Luckily, she appeared to be alright after the fact. I nearly had a heart attack; I thought I had ruined everything for you. I am not exactly sure what she has told you. I cannot apologize enough if I have dampened your relationship. I saw in our short conversation just how much she loves you, and it is tearing me apart to know that I may have ruined that because of something I cannot control. There are not enough words in any language for me to express how sorry I am._

_You truly have done well with her my boy; she is wonderful. She seems to be very calm and patient, which are qualities that become useful when dealing with you. When she found me in the study, I was close to a panic attack when I could not get the blasted record player to work and play your mother's record. Without hesitation, she rationalized the solution. On the topic of your mother, I firmly believe that she would have adored Lara. I see so much of Christine in her. Which reminds me, I cannot believe you never told me she could sing. It is a beautiful voice indeed. She has agreed to allow me to help her learn to sing properly. I think the idea of giving someone music lessons will be good for me, as it will give me a consistent reason to make sure I am put together every day._

_Thank you for understanding. I will never understand how I was blessed with you._

_All my love,_

_Your Father_

* * *

**_LATE JANUARY1916_ **

_Hello Papa,_

_There is no reason to apologize. You are my father and I could never feel ashamed of you. Please remember that. You haven't ruined anything; if anything you made it better. You see, Lara had been wanting to get to know you better. That's why she dropped by, so for you two to have that conversation and truly understand each other is better than anything I could have hoped for. I recently received a letter from her and she was over the moon about being closer to you after your conversation._

_As far as you lying to me, of course, I understand why you did it. You and I are so similar that I believe I would have done the same if I was in your position. But please know that you don't have to hide these types of things anymore. There are better coping mechanisms for you now as opposed to locking yourself in your study and working on music. You have people who love you, people who want to see you happy, people who can help you. So please don't lie to me or anyone else about that again. You aren't a burden in any way, so don't act like you are one. I also ask that you do not lie to yourself; it is alright to ask for help, so don't let your pride get in the way of you receiving the help you need._

_Lara having a better understanding of our family and both you and I is one of the best things for this relationship. It helps us draw closer and assists her in understanding how she can help and support us when we need it. Relationships are built on that sort of trust and understanding, which both you and I are learning as we go. I know you love Lara and you don't want to lose her either, but you needn't worry about that. I doubt she'll be going anywhere any time soon. Now you two have each other - an additional support system during this time. You cannot begin to comprehend how much I want to be at home and hold you both in my arms, but until that moment comes, lean on each other. It will help you more than you think._

_I love the idea of you giving her voice lessons. I have told her that she should take them but she doesn't believe she is good enough for them. Also, there is the issue of her mother not approving of her learning music (though why I will never know), so if you could please not cause a problem on that front, I would greatly appreciate it. I know you have a strong opinion and I believe you are in the right, but her mother is a very traditional woman. I still need to be on her good side so please be lenient about this as a favour to me. I agree with you as well on the topic of these lessons being good for you. It will be a constructive use of time rather than being alone with your thoughts. I cannot wait to hear her voice after you have taught her, as I'm certain it will be nothing less than perfection._

_I love you very much Papa, and I am happy that your past letter seemed to be more genuinely you instead of this perfect facade that you tried in the last one._

_Your son,_

_Gustave_


	19. I'd Like to Introduce You To Someone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new arrival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updated 11-19-20

_LATE JANUARY 1916_

_Gustave,_

_While I am sure that William has already received a letter or will be receiving one soon from his mother and father about this, I thought that I would write one of my own to you. Enclosed with this letter is a photograph of a baby girl, which I am sure you have stumbled across already. In that case, I would like to introduce you to Elizabeth Rose Edwards, who was born on the twenty-sixth of January. Congratulations are in order for William for becoming an older brother, so please pass those sentiments on to him for me. Both Madeleine and Elizabeth are happy and healthy, and Charles is doing fine, though his hand is a bit bruised from helping his wife through her labour. All in all, everything is running as smoothly as it can here, and we all could not be more thrilled to finally have this little one with us. We cannot wait for the two of you to come home and finally meet her; I just know you are going to love her._

_Do write soon. I hope all is well._

_\- Your Father_

* * *

**_ERIK_ **

It was the early morning when my doorbell rang, tearing me from my thoughts. I had been trying to plan out my day in my mind, knowing that Nadir had to work for once, which gave me the day to myself. My architectural business was positively booming, leaving the phone constantly ringing and an ever-growing stack of commissions on my desk. Besides that, I had an upcoming lunch with Lara to get ready for, and I had to make time to go visit Madeleine and Charles. The new father had phoned me when his wife had gone into labour and again once she had delivered a healthy baby girl. I had told myself that I was going to make it to see them - it was just their home, after all,- but the more times I said that, the more often an obstacle arose. I hated that I hadn't gotten around to going to see them and to check up on Maddie, but life kept getting in the way in the form of my clients and there wasn't much I could do. 

"Alright, alright," I said to myself, briskly walking to the front door when the bell rang a second and then a third time. Not quite sure who could be calling on me with such persistence, I opened the door with a frown, only for it to disappear when I saw who was on my front porch. "Maddie, Charles! What are you doing here? I thought you were still at home resting, you told me the doctor said you couldn't be out and about until tomorrow." 

"Yes, well, we got let out early for good behaviour," Charles joked as he gave me a handshake. "So we figured we would stop by and say hello." 

"Well, I'm glad to see the two of you. I'm sorry that I couldn't make it to see you both; I truly wanted to, but life seemed intent on preventing that." I turned to Maddie then and gave her a warm smile. "How are you feeling, Madeleine?" 

"I'm doing well, considering all that happened. But Erik, I believe you are forgetting to greet the newest member of the family; say hello to Elizabeth," Maddie said, smiling as she moved her hand to push the blankets held in her arms away from her newborn daughter's face. 

I looked down at the bundle in her arms, wondering how I had managed to miss the baby that she was holding. I was clearly so accustomed to only seeing Maddie and Charles that I wasn't quite used to the idea of someone else joining them when they came to my house even though I knew the baby had arrived. Looking at the child, I couldn't help but smile at her round little cheeks and the light dusting of red hair on her head that so closely resembled her mother's. 

As I gawked at the child, I started to curse myself for making the three of them stand out on the front step. "My God, what sort of host am I? Come in, please. It's been cold and damp, I don't want any of you to catch cold," I said, stepping to the side so they could walk into the front foyer. "Come and get comfortable. Then I'll greet your new little one." 

Maddie smiled at me, wrapping her free arm around my waist to hug me from the side before she walked into the living room. I turned to Charles then, laughing quietly as he set down their bags. "Quite a bit of luggage with you, hm?" I asked.

"Yes, well, between Maddie's, uh...personal items that we have to have on hand for a while after the delivery and everything we had to bring for Elizabeth, it certainly adds up," Charles said, stretching his back once his bags were on the ground. "Now it's my turn to do the heavy lifting instead of Madeleine." 

I laughed as the two of us walked into the sitting room to join Maddie and the baby. "Yes, it's time to redress the balance," I said as I sat down in my armchair across from the new mother. "How are you feeling, Maddie? You're recovering well, I would hope?" 

"Yes, I'm doing much better. I'm positively euphoric, though; I didn't think I would have another baby of my own after we had William," she replied, looking up at me with a smile. 

"Well, if you're alright, I will direct my question elsewhere. Charles, are you alright?" 

"My hand has been better. She has a grip like nothing else, that's for sure," Charles replied, massaging his right hand as he sat next to his wife on the sofa. 

"Do you blame me?" Maddie asked, the comment getting laughs all around. "You go through twelve hours of excruciating pain with no pause in between and then push a human being out of your body. Then you can talk about being uncomfortable." 

"She has a point, Charles. When birth is in the equation, I don't think you or any man has any leverage with regards to pain," I pointed out. 

"I never have much leverage with regards to anything, so I'm used to it," Charles mumbled. 

I bit back a laugh as Maddie turned to glare at her husband, though a smile remained plastered on her face. "You make me out as a tyrant," she scolded. 

"And are you complaining?" 

"Oh, absolutely not." 

I sat quietly in my chair, watching the pair bicker and tease each other. That was something I had no grasp on and never would have any understanding of after losing Christine. If I had only one wish in the world, it would be to have her back, so that perhaps we could have experienced the same type of love, the kind where you could be arguing one moment and completely lost in one another in less than a second. It pained me to know that I never got a chance to have that, but just as I was rationalizing my disappointment, watching what the couple did next only sent another pang of pain and jealousy through my chest. 

As their bickering ceased, they laughed and shared a kiss before setting their sights on their baby girl again. With the irony of their names, my mind couldn't help but wander to my parents. When I was younger, I had imagined what it would have been like if my father hadn't died. I wondered if I would have grown up with the personality and great sadness that I did. Maybe they would have been in the same position as the blissful couple before me; holding a new little one, my baby brother or sister, as I sat on my father's knee, waiting to catch a glimpse of my sibling. I wondered if my father would have had a close relationship and if Mother and I would have been closer. But seeing the young couple and their happy family in front of me, I could only think that it would have been as blissful for my parents. Or for Christine and I, had she survived and had another child with me and...

"Erik? Are you alright?" I heard Maddie ask, drawing me back to the present moment. "You were just looking at us, rather glassy-eyed. Is everything okay?" 

"Fine, yes. Just lost in thought," I replied, smiling at her. "How long do you think we have before Elizabeth wakes up? She seems to be sound asleep now, but I do know that never lasts long with newborns." 

"We should still have some time. Now, come closer, silly. You can't see the baby from over there," Maddie said, smiling back at me. "You can hold her as well." 

I immediately stiffened at the suggestion, already slightly uncomfortable with the idea. The thought of me accidentally hurting her new baby was terrifying, and I didn't even want to entertain that idea. "Oh, that's alright. Best she has her space." 

"What are you on about? All a baby like this wants is to be close to someone. Just come over here and sit next to me." 

"Madeleine, I'm sure she's comfortable where she is with you. I'm fine looking at her from he-" 

"Erik, get over here and hold your goddaughter," she said, only to pause and start to laugh. "Now look what you've done. You made me ruin the surprise!" 

I froze, a frown on my face as I made an effort to make sense of what she had said. She couldn't have possibly said what I thought she did! "W-What? What do you mean my goddaughter?" I stuttered, 

"Oh, don't be ridiculous. I know you heard me, and if your brain can design buildings down to the millimetre, I know it can comprehend that sentence," Madeleine replied, a grin on her face. 

"But...why me?! I'm sure you had other options that are much better than I am." 

"We did have other options, yes, and we chose you despite that. We truly believe that you would be the perfect person to take care of our child should something happen to us," Charles replied. "We trust you, Erik. We truly do." 

I couldn't help but smile at the remark; two of my closest friends trusted me to be a father to their daughter if anything went wrong. It was a privilege I had never been granted before, not even with Reza, and I wasn't quite sure what to do with it. "I...I don't deserve the honour, but thank you. I will uphold the title with the utmost dedication,” I said with a nod. 

"We know you will. Now come and hold her," Maddie said again. 

I hesitated for another moment, still not entirely sure about holding the baby, but I could tell that my friend truly wanted me to. So I stood up and stepped over to the sofa, sitting next to Maddie and folding my arms like hers. As she set Elizabeth in my arms, I took a deep breath as I held her close to my chest and slowly leaned against the back of the sofa. Simply holding her close was enough to make a warm feeling flood my chest and a smile spread across my face. I wasn't sure what it was; my paternal instinct that was still somewhat untapped despite having Gustave in my life, I guessed. 

I gave her a smile, despite knowing she couldn't see it as she slept, then quietly said, "Hello, little princess. I'm your godfather. You’ll have to forgive me when I make some mistakes, I’m very new to this. Though one thing I can promise is that I am going to do my best to be there for you. When you need me, I will be there," before leaning my head down and pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. 

Looking up again, I saw Maddie with her head on Charles' shoulder and tears in her eyes. "That was so sweet, Erik," she said, her voice quiet. 

"Why are you crying?" I asked, slightly confused about what I had done to incite such an emotional reaction in her. 

"Oh, I'm just hormonal and all of that nonsense. It isn't you, don't look so concerned,” she replied, waving me off.

"Ah, I see." I adjusted the way Elizabeth laid in my arms, raising my arm slightly to keep her head up, then smiled at her parents. "She's beautiful, you two. She is absolutely beautiful." 

Charles smiled wide. "Thank you, my friend. We're sure she's going to love you if she hasn't started to already, given how she's holding onto your finger,” he said. 

Glancing down at Elizabeth, I couldn't help but chuckle when I noticed that she had her tiny fist wrapped tightly around my pointer finger. "She's strong too, that's what it is. You're going to make out to be quite the tough little girl, aren't you, Elizabeth?" 

The room fell quiet and I grew more at ease with the baby in my arms, only for that to all be undone when she started to fuss. As her quiet whining grew into louder cries, I found myself starting to bounce her in my arms, almost on instinct, as I turned to Maddie. "I have a feeling she wants her mother," I said, my nervousness evident in my voice. 

Maddie smiled as she stood up and took her daughter from me. "She's just hungry, that's all," she said, rocking Elizabeth back and forth. "Is there somewhere I could go to feed her?" 

"Yes, of course. You can step into my study upstairs. It's private and quiet for you two," I replied. 

She nodded, looking down at her daughter. "Alright, sweetheart, let's go get you fed. You can see your Uncle Erik again in a moment.”

I smiled at hearing the nickname, making note of it so I could make use of it later. "I appreciate the confidence in me. People have never wanted their children anywhere near me, so to now be dubbed godfather to a child and allowed to hold her if I want to is a lot to take in,” I said as I turned to Charles. 

"Well, all of that can be forgotten now that Lizzie's here. You can say you've held a baby now! It's a lovely feeling, isn't it? It sends a fuzzy sort of feeling through you," Charles said. 

I nodded, starting to fiddle with the ring on my finger as slightly more negative thoughts ran through my head in relation to his statement. "Yes, it's wonderful,” I said quietly. 

"What's going on?" I frowned and looked over at Charles, seeing him frowning right back at me. "You only fidget with your ring when you've got something on your mind, so come on. Tell me what's wrong." 

"You've caught onto my nervous ticks, have you?" 

"It's hard not to, Erik. It happens a lot." 

"I suppose so," I said with a nod. "I just can't help but think about Gustave. I love my son more than anything in this world, but having him in my life and never having held him in my arms the way I just held your daughter, missing all those key developmental stages of his life...it feels wrong in a way that the first baby I've ever held wasn't even my own." 

Charles nodded, resting his arm on the back of the sofa as he said, "I understand. Having a baby is like nothing else, and that's not me trying to throw that in your face; that's only me speaking the truth as a father of two. Still, I completely understand how it would be really difficult. Do you...were there any photos of him from when he was young? Did his mother pass any on before she died?" 

"I didn't get my hands on any, no. Christine wasn't with me for very long before she died, so she never got to tell me. If there are any, though, I doubt I would be able to get them now; the Vicomte has probably been rid of them for years now," I replied. It was a sad reality, I realized as I pondered that fact more and more. I would never see photos of my son from before the age of ten because the Vicomte wanted nothing to do with me and would never do anything as gracious as that. The thought almost angered me; that man had no right to see things in my son's life any more than I did. He had been there for all the moments in Gustave’s life that I had longed to see most. It felt like it was just one more thing on the laundry list of moments Chagny had stolen from me. Those first few years of my son’s life remained a mystery to me and I simply had to settle for that. 

"I'm sorry, Erik," Charles said, reaching over to set his hand on my knee. "I know those are nothing but words, but I meant it. No father should have to go through that sort of thing, not knowing about a decade of his child's life. I don't know what I would do if that was the case with myself and William.” 

I shrugged, looking at Charles as I fiddled absentmindedly with my ring. "No going back now. I have him now and I could ask for nothing more than that. Well, besides having his mother back by his side. Even still, all things considered, I would say that our family is as close to perfect as we're going to get,” I replied with a slight nod. 

"All you need now is for Gustave to put a ring on Lara and for them to make you a grandpa. Then it will be absolutely perfect," Charles replied with a laugh. 

"They will do it all in their own time. I'm not going to pressure them into making a major decision like that before they're ready,” I said, chuckling along with him. 

"Well, someone should tell him that there is no time like the present. You and I both know that he would marry Lara tomorrow if he could." 

"I do know that, yes, but I'm not sure I'll be the one to tell him that. He will get there, I'm sure of it; the way he looks at her gives it all away. He looks at her like she is an angel on earth, and that's just how I looked at my Christine," I replied, a smile spreading across my face at the thought. I saw so much of myself and Christine in Gustave and Lara; the higher points of our relationship, of course. He looked at her with such love and pure wonder at how lucky he was to have her in his life. I recalled so vividly thinking the same thing when Christine and I spent that one incredible night together; I hadn't been able to even begin to comprehend how I had been lucky enough to have such a beautiful woman in my arms. 

I noticed a smile appearing on Charles' face as I spoke. "Your adoration for Miss Daaé is incredible, you know. I can't help but enjoy hearing it from you." 

"Well, when I finally found the woman that I knew I had truly fallen in love with, I fell hard. I never wanted to let her go, even in death. She will always have my heart, as I'm sure Madeleine does for you." 

"Oh, certainly. Madeleine is everything I never even knew I needed," Charles said. "It sounds like Christine was just the same to you." 

"She was my saviour, giving me the reason for existing that I had so long been searching for. It would have been cruel of God to have sent her to the opera house otherwise," I explained. 

Charles nodded, his gaze dropping to the wedding band on my finger. "So you would have married her, I take it?" he asked. "From what I've gathered, you had managed to win her from this Vicomte that you've made mention of." 

"I would have married her in a heartbeat, yes," I said, touching my ring. "I could never have won her because she was not a prize. She chose the Vicomte because, I can only assume, he represented stability to her. I thought the same, but how wrong we were. I shoulder that guilt daily, knowing that if I hadn't left her that night, our lives would have been so different." 

"That night?" 

I bit the inside of my cheek, realizing that I had brought up a topic that Charles had forgotten about. I owed him at least a brief explanation at that point, I knew that much; there wasn't a point in leaving him totally in the dark. "The one night Christine and I shared together eighteen years ago that...well, that resulted in Gustave," I said with a chuckle. "It was far from a planned encounter, but a wonderful one nonetheless." 

"You had her with you, then. What happened that separated the two of you?" Charles asked with a frown. 

"Even with what we had shared, I still didn't think I could give her the life that she deserved, so I left her before she woke. She married the Vicomte, and I moved to America with no idea that she was carrying my child." 

"I see. I'm sorry, I can only imagine how difficult it was for you," Charles said quietly. "You didn't have to tell me all of that." 

I shrugged. "Your wife knows, so I figured I would fill you in," I replied, looking to the doorway of the room as Maddie walked back in with Elizabeth. "Speaking of whom." 

"Speaking of me? What did you two get up to while I was tending to my daughter?" she asked with a laugh. 

“Why is she only _your_ daughter all of a sudden?” Charles inquired with a slight sense of annoyance in his voice. 

“Oh, hush. You know what I mean.” Her chiding him as if he were another one of her children was an entertaining sight, to say the least. 

"Just sharing something with your husband that you already knew, that's all," I said, smiling when I noticed Elizabeth reaching up to grab at her mother's hair. "She's wide awake now, is she?" 

"That she is," Maddie replied as she walked over to me. "I need to run to the restroom quickly to freshen up a bit while she's content. Could you hold her for me?" 

I nodded, a new sense of confidence in me when it came to holding my goddaughter. "Of course." 

With a smile, Maddie looked down at her daughter as she set her in my arms. "There's your Uncle Erik, my darling," she said. "At least you can't pull on his hair as you can with mine." 

With a laugh, I watched Maddie walk away before looking back down at Elizabeth, finding her looking up at me with wide blue eyes. "Why hello, little one," I said. 

"I think she likes you," Charles said as he moved down the couch to sit by my side. 

"Well, I would hope so. She's stuck with me as her godfather now," I replied, my smile growing as Elizabeth smiled up at me. Whether she knew she was doing it or not, she had still smiled at me, which was something I hadn't realized I would love as much as I did.

"She does, trust me. She hasn't made a sound; she's content to just look at you and let you hold her. She wasn't even that relaxed when my mother was holding her, so she is definitely liking you already,” Charles said with a laugh. 

"I'm glad to hear that, then. And I'm sure she'll come around to your mother eventually." I looked over at Charles again and couldn't help but smirk as I found something new to pester him about, which was always my goal with him. "So I see you have a new look going for you." 

"Oh, don't even go there," he said with a roll of his eyes. 

"Why not? It's quite the drastic shift from your normal appearance, you can't expect me not to say something." 

"Okay, this 'new look', as you call it, is the result of having a newborn baby who wakes up every hour and a half to be fed, changed, or rocked," he retorted, gesturing to the scruffy beard starting to grow on his face that I had decided to draw attention to. 

"No, not this sweet little one," I replied, looking at Elizabeth and smiling as I watched her lift her tiny hand and brush it against my shirt and its buttons, though I knew it wasn’t really of her own volition. "She can't possibly be the cause of your beard of sleep deprivation." 

Charles sighed, looking at his daughter with a smile. "As precious as she is, she can really scream and cry when she wants something, which means Maddie doesn't sleep. So I handle things sometimes for her, which means I don't sleep either." 

"I see. No time to shave your face, though?" 

"God, no. Shaving is one of the last things on my mind at this point in time. Still, you can't seriously tell me that you have never had one of these in your past life." 

"More recently than you think, actually. You know these past few days and months have been far from easy; I didn't get around to sleeping much or caring enough to bother shaving, really," I admitted, keeping my eyes on Elizabeth as I spoke to my friend about how hard things had been for me. I had only really talked about that with Lara and was just starting to really come clean about it to Nadir, so to say something to someone else brought a form of relief. 

"I understand," he replied as he set his hand on my shoulder in a comforting gesture, then gave me a pat as he changed the subject: "But not one because of caring for a baby!" 

"No, certainly not," I said with a laugh. "Gustave woke me up now and then because of a nightmare when he was younger, but never enough to bring about a beard." 

"You're a lucky man," Charles mumbled. 

I shook my head. "Far from it. You're the lucky one here; you get to savour these moments." 

"Savour the fact that I haven't slept for the past few days, between Madeleine being in labour for twelve hours and Lizzie's inability to sleep? I don't know about that." 

"Oh, you know what I mean. You get to see her, be with her. Be present in her life from an early age. I envy you for that." 

"Yes, well, I'll cherish them more once she's older and I've gotten some sleep," Charles said as he ran a hand through his hair. "Still, I'm glad that you're going to be a big part of her life as well. You're true godfather material, Erik." 

"Let's hope so. Though I think what we really need to be concerned about is how either of us is going to survive her teenage years,” I said, laughing quietly. 

Charles groaned, leaning his head against the back of the couch. "You know, I've been trying not to think about them,” he replied. 

"They are unfortunately inevitable, as they are for everyone." 

"Maybe it will be different this time. She doesn't have to get that big, right?" 

"You may not want her to, but she will, just as our boys did. Do you remember how nervous we were when they entered their teenage years?" I asked. 

"We were petrified, yes. Still, I think there's something different with a girl, though," Charles said, reaching over to gently brush Elizabeth's cheek with his fingers. 

"God help us all," I said, smirking as I turned to look at him again. "You know she's going to come home one day with a boy in tow, don't you?" 

"And his body will never be found should he break her heart,” Charles said firmly. 

"Oh, I will help you hide it. Trust me, I have had experience with wanting to take action against someone for hurting my child," I said with a roll of my eyes. "The first girl that Gustave courted wasn't worth his time and broke his heart. I had some choice words that were difficult to hold back, trust me." 

"Well, if and when somebody breaks Lizzie's heart, you won't have to withhold those comments," Charles said with a nod. 

"I won't, don't worry. Still, we should just let her be a baby now, shouldn't we?" I asked, looking back at Elizabeth. 

"Yes, enjoy it while it lasts." 

I nodded, smiling as I watched the little girl’s eyes starting to close again. "But to circle back to the beard, I think it's a nice change for you," I said, finding myself starting to gently rock the baby in my arms. 

"Why, thank you, Erik," he replied with a smile. 

"Anytime, John." 

"Why? Just why?" he asked with a laugh. 

"Because I can and it's fun for me,” I said simply. 

"Pestering people is your favourite pastime, isn't it?" 

"Well, you have to admit that the reactions are fun. Not to mention that hardly any effort is required on my part," I pointed out, keeping my eyes on my goddaughter as she fell asleep in my arms. 

When Charles stayed quiet, though, I turned my head to see him staring at me rather intently. "Why are you staring so hard? You'll hurt yourself." 

"I'm using my imagination," he replied, narrowing his eyes as he looked at me.

"A dangerous pastime. For what, exactly?" 

"To picture you with a beard. I've never seen you when you aren't clean-shaven." 

"Well, I'm never **not** clean-shaven, so there would never have been an opportunity for you to see me like that," I pointed out. 

"Alright, fair. Would you ever intentionally grow one? A beard not born out of sleep deprivation?" Charles inquired. 

"Not in this lifetime,” I said with a shake of my head. 

"Oh, why not? I think you could pull it off. Not to mention that the ladies tend to like it," he said, smirking and nudging my arm with his elbow. 

"First off, don't be ridiculous. I am not growing a beard to attract a partner, so abandon that idea," I retorted. "And also, they're quite uncomfortable for me, honestly." 

"I suppose they would be, considering the mask and all,” Charles said with a nod.

"Indeed. It's quite the procedure to have to shave every morning anyway, so I avoid the additional work whenever possible."

Charles chuckled at the comment as we looked up when Madeleine walked back in, smiling at us. "What are you two laughing about? Not me, I hope," she said. 

"Never, dear. We're not talking about anything, really," Charles replied. 

I scoffed. "Yes, we are. Your husband is pestering me, Madeleine," I said. 

"Well, that's no shock. Now what did he do?" she asked. 

"I didn't start it!" Charles exclaimed, only to cover his mouth with his hand when I shushed him to make sure that the baby stayed asleep. "He pestered me about my beard, so I'm imagining him with one and trying to get him to grow one, that's it! He started it!" 

"You two are worse than children,” Maddie sighed. 

I shook my head as I got to my feet, slowly passing my goddaughter back over to her mother. "Pointing fingers, are we, Charles? What example does that set for your little girl?" 

"Now you listen here-" Charles started. 

"Gentlemen, you've made your point: You're both childish and you can play with your toys and blocks later. Charles, we should get home. Lizzie's asleep and I'm exhausted, so if you have any closing comments to make in this case with Erik, please do so now." 

"Yes, in fact; is there a designated day to mock me? Is it today and no one told me?" Charles demanded. 

"Oh Charles, have you not caught on yet? That's every day," I said with a smirk. 

"Okay, I'm going to get my shoes on. Goodbye, Erik," he said, waving at me over his shoulder as he walked to the front hall. 

I laughed as I looked back to Madeleine. "Your husband is absolutely ridiculous, you know." 

"Oh, I am well aware of that fact after twenty years of marriage," she replied, looking down at her sleeping daughter. "Thank you for getting her to sleep, by the way." 

"I didn't really do much, honestly. She just watched me quite intently for a while and then started to nod off. I only rocked her a bit," I said with a shrug. 

"Well, I appreciate it nonetheless. You certainly are good with babies, even though you're a little inexperienced." Maddie looked at me with a smile before she gave me another side hug. "It was good to see you, Erik." 

"Yes, it was good to see you too, as always," I said, smiling at her before I bent over to gently kiss her daughter's forehead, making sure my mask didn’t brush her skin and disturb her sleep. "And it was a pleasure to meet you too, Lizzie."


	20. The Unthinkable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nightmare comes true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updated 11-21-20

**_JUNE 1918_ **

**_ERIK_ **

I had actually been productive as of late; it seemed as though the lessons with Lara had created a routine that I could follow. She was progressing beautifully though, in all honesty, I didn’t believe she had told her parents that she was receiving lessons. Nevertheless, Gustave was in for a surprise when he got home.

I had been absentmindedly working on some sketches when a news report triggered me into listening more intently to the radio: “Breaking news out of Russia: the Romanov family has been assassinated. A Bolshevik squad invaded the palace, then shot and killed Tsar Nicholas II and his wife Tsarina Alexandra in Yekaterinburg, Russia. Their five children were also victims of the attack; all four of the Grand Duchesses, as well as their youngest child and only son, Tsarevich Alexei Nikolaevich.”

The reporter listed out all the reasons why that might have happened and how the people of Russia were responding to the development and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of pain as he listed off the names of the children. I knew none of them personally but I did remember their grandfather quite well from my time in Russia. He was very curious and asked questions about every little aspect of the tricks I performed. I had been brought on by the Tsar at the time to be a magician to keep the children entertained when I was needed. Though my time in Russia had been brief, the family did pay me well.

On the topic of Russia, the man who had dragged me away from it walked into the room at that moment; Nadir had come in and I hadn’t even noticed. He sat down across the table from me and began looking over my sketches while I tried to listen to the reporter as he continued the story.

“Erik, who is-” my friend started to say.

“Be quiet,” I told him. The reporter was saying that he was receiving new information and I hadn’t wanted to miss a single word.

“For those of you who are just joining us now, the royal family of Russia have been brutally assassinated. The people of Russia are seeking to form a new government without the use of the old regime. It seems that the violence of the past few years will not end for Russia. I am receiving word that there has been a raid on the palace where the family once resided. Among the many luxuries found in the palace, it seems that a peculiar looking music box belonging to the youngest daughter Anastasia has been discovered.”

Nadir looked absolutely stunned, to say the least. “The Romanovs are dead? All of them?”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. It’s like the world is flipping on its head.” It took me a moment to process everything the reporter had said, but when I did, I realized something. “I made that music box, you know.”

“What music box?” He was clearly confused. I suppose he hadn’t paid much attention to the reporter after the reporter’s initial statement.

“The one that was found in the palace. I made it for the grandmother at some point when I was there. I remember it.” The image of that project was clear as day; the gold and green exterior, the figure of the Tsar and Tsarina dancing inside. It was certainly some of my better work. “She had commissioned me to make it. I suppose it was meant to be a family heirloom at some point. I even wrote the melody for it.”

Nadir couldn’t help but sigh, but the smile on his face with the mix of shock was quite amusing. “My god, Erik, is there anything you haven’t done?”

“Firstly, I’m glad that I can still surprise you. Secondly, there is quite a list of things I haven’t done, but you won’t let me do them because you, my dear friend, are boring.”

“I prefer the words ‘concerned for your well being,’ thank you very much,” he replied with such a matter of fact tone it was almost irritable. “Honestly, though, I think you will continue to surprise me even when we are old and grey.”

“What do you mean when? We are old and grey, Daroga.” I simply had to laugh as I smoothed down my hairpiece. I couldn’t help myself when I realized that my hair could be perfect for as long as I wanted: “Well, you’re ahead of me with the grey aspect.”

He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, clearly resenting my comment, which made it all the more fun for me. “I came here to enjoy a peaceful afternoon. Why am I being attacked?”

“As always, because I have fun doing it. Honestly Daroga, you are in the wrong house if you want peace.” As if on cue, Sasha began barking at something she saw outside the living room window; I admired her perfect timing. “Now, is there something you need? I am quite busy at the moment.”

“I came up to ask if you wanted something to eat. It’s two-thirty and I imagine lunch is not something you did today.”

I looked at the clock and was actually surprised to see the time. I had gotten lost in my work again, obviously. “No, actually, it wasn’t. I would appreciate something now that you mention it.”

He chuckled at me, obviously entertained by my foolishness. “You are so irresponsible it hurts me sometimes. You know that, right?”

“But you stay anyway. So who is the real fool here?” I replied with a cocky grin on my face. I had often wondered why Nadir had stayed with me for as long as he had. I never exactly give him a reason to stay.

He clearly didn't like my joke as much as I did, as he took on a very serious tone before saying, “Be downstairs in ten minutes or I am eating your serving.”

I nodded my head to indicate that I understood and he seemed to be satisfied with that, as he began to make his way downstairs to prepare what I could only assume would be a simple sandwich. My mind, though, was still fresh with the memory of the music box. I walked over to my piano and played the first few notes of that simple melody I had put inside. I was surprised at how clear the memory was, so I quickly grabbed a blank piece of paper and wrote it down before I could forget.

Once it was on paper, I went down to enjoy lunch without fear of it leaving my mind. I couldn’t help but hum the song as I left my study. My mind wandered away from the music box and I couldn’t help but remember who it had once belonged to. The thought of the whole family being gone in an instant was such a terrifying image. It made me hope and pray that nothing else would go wrong in my own little part of the world that was slowly falling into chaos.

* * *

**_NOVEMBER 1918_ **

**_GUSTAVE_ **

It seemed the exhaustion was beginning to get to me as I yawned in the middle of my work. These long hours were getting brutal; we were up before the crack of dawn each day and often didn’t get to bed until midnight. I had been trying my hardest to stay focused on the project but my brain couldn’t help but wander. Almost instantly, my mind brought up Lara; her image floated through my head like a cloud. I had been keeping correspondence with her through the mail but there was only so much emotion that could be conveyed on paper. I pulled out the locket from under my uniform jacket and just looked at her for a while.

“ _Je retournerai toujours,_ ” I whispered to myself, focusing on the promise I had made at the train station. That day felt like a lifetime ago; they all said the war would be over soon, though presently, there seemed to be no sign of that.

“Hey, can I get your opinion on something?” I heard William say as he came up behind me and startled me out of my daydream.

When I turned around to face him, I couldn’t hide my laughter; he was holding a piece of paper that looked so delicate that if it was folded one more time, it would break in half, but to be quite honest, he looked like a lost puppy. That expression on his face immediately told me what he was working on.

“Let’s see this draft of your letter to Jane,” I said as I held out my hand to him.

He pulled the paper away from me defensively, clearly annoyed that I had figured out his question before he had to formally ask it. “How’d you know it was going to be about that?” he demanded.

“Because I know that look on your face. Now hand it over.”

“You can make all the excuses you want, but I am still chalking it up to secret telepathic powers,” he said very matter-of-factly as he handed me what must have been his eighth draft. That poor girl Jane must be driving herself mad waiting for him to send her something.

_Dear Jane,_

_I hope you have been taking care of yourself. I know it has been a long time but I want you to know that I haven’t forgotten about you. I am truly sorry for how long it has been since I left; I didn’t mean for it to take this long to write a letter to you. I’m just not very good with words. I have been driving myself crazy trying to find the right words to tell you how much I actually miss you._

_I miss the way your hair bounces in your ponytail while you walk. I miss the way your nose scrunches up when you are focused. I miss the way you get excited over the little things in life, the way we could lean on one another as we sat together at lunch and all the time we got to spend together after the amazing day at the beach. I miss the feeling of how your hand fits in mine. I miss the way you had to get up on your tiptoes to kiss me on the cheek. But most of all, I miss the way we talked. There was never a dull moment when we were together. We never seemed to run out of things to talk about. You and I can debate about almost anything and still act like nothing happened once the next topic is brought up. The best conversations though are the ones where we didn’t have to talk at all. Those hours where we didn’t have to say a word; we could simply be in the same room together and five minutes could feel like a lifetime._

_I cannot wait to be back with you and find so many other reasons why I missed you. I promise I will be back as soon as possible. When I do, I will introduce you properly to my parents and I will meet yours. I know how nervous you are to tell them about me. But you really shouldn’t. If I can somehow manage to impress you (I still don’t know how I do that), I should be able to impress them. Please don’t worry too much, love; I didn’t forget about you. How could I ever forget such perfection?_

_With all my love,_

_Your William_

“Will, this sounds perfect,” I told him as I handed back the fragile piece of paper. “Though I would suggest copying it down on a stronger paper before sending it. That thing looks like it might break in half.”

He still seemed to be apprehensive about his work. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes, I am extremely confident that she will love it.” I attempted to reassure him but my words didn’t appear to be sinking in. He was hopeless when it came to those sorts of things, and I knew he was going to have to come to the realization on his own. So instead, I returned to my work but realized then that I had forgotten something when I was gathering my written work that morning. “Well, if you are just going to sit there and stew over it, you may as well be useful. Could you please go and get me my journal from the bunker?”

He chuckled at me, clearly finding my forgetfulness amusing. “You can’t be serious. You, the one of us who would pack his schoolbag two days in advance at the end of summer vacation, actually forgot something. It’s official, the apocalypse has begun.”

I smacked him on the shoulder in retaliation, though in all honesty, forgetting something was abnormal behaviour for me. “Could you please just go get it? I am in the middle of running some numbers here and I need my notes.”

“You want me to go all the way across the compound to go get the journal that **you** forgot?” He made a whole show about it only to follow up by saying, “I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

“Thank you. You’re the best,” I said when he finally agreed to go get it.

“What would you do without me?” he asked as he ran off.

“I really don’t know,” I said to myself as I turned back to my sheets of numbers and design specifications.

William had only been gone five minutes when alarms started going off. Panic rose in my gut and for some instinctive reason, I grabbed my gun out of its holster on my belt. I had never used it before but was required to carry it around in case of emergency.

“There are enemy soldiers in the bunkers. Please stay where you are; we here do not expect to be involved in the fight at this time,” the voice of my commanding officer blared through the workroom as if he had a microphone. Instead of obeying, though, as a realization crossed my mind, I immediately abandoned my work, put my gun back in its holster, and jumped to my feet.

“Gustave, what are you doing?” one of my fellow soldiers asked. The two of us had started to get to know each other while we had been working and got along well; his confusion made sense.

“Nothing, mind your business,” I replied as I ran towards the door. I had nearly made it out when I was grabbed by my collar by the same officer that had made the announcement to us.

“Stay here. Foot soldiers are handling things. Don’t be a hero, kid,” he said as he threw me backwards, only for me to get right back up and bolt out the door before anyone could stop me.

William was there.

William was there.

_William was there._

Those three words played on a loop each time my foot met the ground as I ran. At some point, my gun had been removed from its holster again and was tightly gripped in my hand. As I was running down one of the corridors, a German soldier appeared at the other end of the hall. His gun was raised and he was ready to shoot. I raised mine as well, and within a split second, a shot was fired and he was on the ground, though the shot hadn’t come from me. I looked behind me to see another officer standing with his gun raised. I didn’t have time to thank him for essentially saving my life, though; I had other places I needed to be.

When I finally got to our bunker, I scanned the room furiously.

Where was he?

Where was he?

_Where was he?_

I then heard a groan from in between one of the beds and made a mad dash towards it, but nothing could have ever prepared me for what I saw there; William, laying on the ground with a pool of blood by his side and a red stain that was expanding on his jacket. I dropped to my knees and pulled him onto my lap, then immediately started pressing my hands to the center of that red spot.

“It’s okay, Will. You’re going to be alright,” I said, though I couldn’t tell if I was trying to comfort him or myself. Within seconds of having my hand on him, it was soaked with blood; it was coming out so fast. All I knew how to do was keep pressure on it.

“Gustave?” I heard him ask weakly.

I looked to his face to see that he had opened his eyes and was moving them frantically from side to side in search of me. “It’s me. I’m right here. We’re going to get you some help,” I replied.

I was about to try and get him to talk to me when I heard footsteps coming closer. The source of them, I quickly discovered, was a German soldier. If I let him get any closer, he would hurt Will even more.

My vision went red as I heard the loud _bang_ of a gunshot, and the next thing I knew, the soldier was on the ground and my weapon felt warm in my hand. Had I shot him? I looked around to see if there was anyone else who could have fired the shot but was terrified to find that Will and I were alone. That meant I had killed someone. The gun fell from my hand with a clang on the floor, horror the only emotion I felt running through my body. It was only when Will repeated my name that I was even able to remember where I was.

“Gustave, d-don’t you fret,” he said; it seemed as if he knew what was going to happen. I suppose some people just knew when their time was coming.

However, I sat there in denial. Help had to be on the way; he was going to be okay. “You will live if I have anything to say about it, William, dear God above.” I tried to reassure him, but he remained so peaceful as he laid there in my arms. My fist was still balled with a section of his coat in its grip as I tried to keep as much pressure as possible on his wound. “William, you’re going to be alright, just look at me. We’re going to get you home soon and you can see your parents. Your mother and father will be so happy to see you and you’ll get to meet Lizzie. You get to see Jane again and tell her all the beautiful things you wrote in your letter. And you can help me propose to Lara as we talked about all the time, right? Who’s going to be my best man if you’re not there?”

The tears I had been holding at bay demanded to be released. I leaned over him, looking at his face; he was so calm. His breathing hadn’t become laboured and he just lay there. I thought I almost saw him smile, even when his eyes opened again and he saw me crying.

“I’m sorry...you’re going to be great. Don't cry. I’ll be okay. Just hold my hand and let it be,” he said, his voice slightly raspy as he slowly raised his hand to mine that was holding down the pressure on his wound and lifted it off. I frantically shook my head in refusal, but I didn’t have the strength to force my hand back into place. He gripped my hand then and I squeezed a little tighter to let him know I was still there. “I’ll tell your mother that you and Uncle Erik say hello.”

His grip loosened then. His eyes looked blankly at the ceiling, the rise and fall of his chest came to a stop. I couldn’t accept it though; that’s not how things were supposed to work. He couldn’t just not be there anymore. I tried shaking him, hoping he was just asleep. When that didn’t work, I tried talking to him instead, praying he would respond.

“Papa and I would appreciate that, but not yet, okay? You’re going to make it. We can both tell her much later. I still need my best friend, you’re not allowed to leave me,” I said.

Still nothing. No response. That wasn’t right. He was supposed to wake up and say something; he _had_ to say something. He had to crack a joke or say something sarcastic. William couldn’t just be gone. I kept squeezing his hand, thinking he had to respond eventually.

“Come on, Will, wake up. This isn’t funny anymore. You really had me going there but the joke is over now. You’ve gotten good at pretending to be asleep; I remember when we were kids you used to try and trick me all the time and end up scaring the life out of me. Come on now, this prank isn’t fun anymore, Will.” Tears were pouring down my face as I kept telling him over and over that it was time to wake up, but it wasn’t until the medics finally arrived and I was peeled away from him that reality hit me like a truck.

William wasn’t going to wake up.

* * *

**_ERIK_ **

Nadir and I had actually been enjoying a somewhat peaceful afternoon and we were in the middle of having lunch when, all of a sudden, we were interrupted by someone pounding at the door. We both looked at each other in complete and utter confusion, wondering who it could be. When it persisted, I instinctually went to answer it, realizing that, eventually, the person on the other side might break down my door if necessary. I thought I heard Nadir call my name, but I could barely hear anything over the combined noise of the door and Sasha barking at it.

I opened the door to find Maddie and her whole family on the other side; Charles was holding Lizzie so I could only imagine it was Maddie who had been whaling away on the door. I noticed that Charles was as pale as a ghost, looking like he could drop at any moment, whereas his wife was bright red with anger. There were dark circles under her eyes, but regardless, she was filled with rage.

Before I could even get a word out to ask what on earth had happened, Maddie began yelling at me: “You promised me!”

My confusion must have been apparent, but I couldn’t let Charles stand out there any longer, so, at risk of my own life, I ignored Maddie for a moment. I was about to ask her husband to give Lizzie to me so that he could come in and sit down, but Nadir beat me to it.

“Charles, get in here and sit down. I’m getting you some water,” he said as he stepped onto the front porch.

He looked like he was about to protest, but as soon as Nadir had taken Lizzie out of his arms, he practically keeled over. I put my arm around him to keep him from falling as I led him over to the couch in the living room. Maddie was in tow, but she hadn’t said a word since I had opened the door, seemingly waiting until she had my complete attention.

Once Charles was seated and taken care of, I was able to turn my attention back to her. “What in God’s name is going on?” I asked.

I hadn’t noticed it before, but she was clutching a piece of paper with a grip that looked like it could snap a log in half. Without hesitation, she threw it at me and repeated what she had said earlier: “You _promised_ me.”

I quickly scanned through the letter, finding that it was from the military base where the boys were stationed. When I got to the end, though, I had to reread it to make sure I had gotten it right the first time. I heard Nadir gasp next to me as he read the letter as well. That couldn’t be right, that was unthinkable. There must have been a mistake.

I tried to walk over to Maddie in order to hug her, but she shoved me away hard. She held one arm out in front of her, keeping me at a distance, and the other one was hugging her waist tightly.

“Maddie I’m so-”

“Shut up,” she snapped.

I tried retaking a step towards her again but she pushed me away even harder. “Please-”

“I said shut up! Not another step, not another word.” With that, she dropped her arm and walked right up to me, then began beating my chest with balled fists. I still couldn't believe what had happened to the point where I was too numb to feel the pain I should have; I simply watched her fists hit my chest over and over again.

She then took a brief break from whaling away on me to continue her yelling: “You promised! You promised he would come home! You swore it! You said you were never wrong and I believed you! Now look at what’s happened, you liar! My baby boy is gone!”

She went to continue beating my ribs but I grabbed her wrists to stop her before she could start because, as much as I knew I deserved it, that wasn’t Maddie. As I held on, she finally broke down and dropped to her knees with me not far behind. She had unballed her fists, so I released her hands and they simply fell to her lap. Her curls fell over her face like a curtain as she cried and, through her sobs, I barely heard her whisper, “You said you would never lie to me.”

“Madeleine, I never wanted to lie to you. That is the last thing on this earth that I ever want to do,” I said softly.

“But you did! You lied about something that you had to be right about.” She looked up then so I could see her face; it was pink and blotchy from crying and her eyes had gone red.

“Maddie, I...I’m so sorry," I replied as my head dropped in shame. She was right; who was I to tell her that they would come home? I was no fortune teller, and if I was, I was pretty terrible at it. I had no right to give her that kind of assurance.

There was a long pause of silence between us all. Nobody quite knew what to say, but Maddie finally spoke up in the midst of her irregular breathing: “I just want my baby back.”

It was at that moment that Charles’ walls crumbled; my only guess was that he had been holding things together for the sake of his wife, but hearing her say those words made the whole mess way too real. He broke down crying as well, and immediately, Nadir was there and had his arm around his shoulder to comfort him.

I couldn’t stand the silence; someone had to let them know that they were not alone in grieving for their son. I cautiously went to try again to hug her, and that time, she let me. I was even allowed to smooth down her hair as I said, “I know, Maddie. We all want him back.”

“Now Elizabeth will grow up without ever knowing her big brother,” she croaked out through her tears. I couldn’t help but look over her shoulder at the small girl sitting on the sofa who had no idea what was going on. It nearly brought more tears to my own eyes thinking of how she would never know the kindness and love of her older brother. She would probably never fully understand what had taken place and the gravity of those events until she was much older.

Maddie eventually lifted her head from my chest and looked at me, taking a moment to steady her breathing before she spoke: “But you’re not to blame, it’s this god-forsaken war. England took my baby from me.”

The room went silent, but it looked like Maddie still had more to say. I could see how hard it was for her to keep her composure, so I offered her my handkerchief so that she could dry her face and continue: “I’m sorry, Erik. I didn’t mean what I said.”

“I deserved it. You’re right, I lied to you about everything. I honestly probably deserved another punch or two,” I replied. I had begun to feel the pain in my chest and knew I would be bruised, but I couldn’t tell the pain was really because of her punches or because I too felt like I had lost a son.

It was at that moment that I heard Charles speak for the first time that whole afternoon, his voice hoarse and dry like he had just tried to swallow a mouthful of sand: “No you don't, Erik. You couldn’t have possibly known; none of us could have known. If we had, none of us would have let him go.”

“I should have been more careful with my words. I shouldn’t have done that to you. You’d think I would have learned by now to watch what I say,” I replied. Though Charles’ words were touching to hear, they couldn’t fill the void of guilt I was feeling.

“You were trying to be optimistic in a time as dark as this. It was a refreshing change,” Nadir said, seemingly deciding that it was a good time for that comment for whatever reason. Though it did make Maddie chuckle for a moment, those laughs only turned into more tears. I quickly leaned in to hug her and she rested her head on my chest as she cried some more.

“Not the time for sarcasm, Daroga,” I said, needing to chastise him for that; usually I was the only one who made sarcastic comments at inappropriate times.

“That wasn’t meant to be sarcastic,” he replied. He seemed to be trying to remedy his apparent error in wording, so he looked to be scrambling for what to say next. “I know you were trying to be genuine, which in itself is a rarity. It’s just that this war is so bizarre, though; no one can really say what will happen for certain, as tragic as that is.”

At that, Maddie immediately lifted her head and looked Nadir directly in the eyes. “It’s pointless. Use the word that this is meant for it. It is a pointless war,” she said.

No matter how right she was, reality had seemed to be having its way with me once more. “We may see it like that. Our leaders do not,” Nadir replied.

“Then they are blind!” she exclaimed, leaning her head against my chest again and wiping away her tears.

“Yes, that would be the right word to describe them,” Charles said. He was quick to agree with his wife, but as he looked up, I met his eyes and saw all the pain in them and I understood why he was so fast to respond; he and Maddie shared a broken look that I imagined could only be mimicked so perfectly between a husband and wife in their position.

Maddie glanced back at me a moment later, but the look on her face is one I will never forget. I knew the face so well that it was almost a neutral expression to me now. I knew within seconds of her gasping what had happened.

I wasn’t wearing my mask.

I had taken it off to eat lunch with Nadir when they had come to the house; it was so often a nuisance when eating, but I must have forgotten to put it back on when I went to answer the door. I quickly thanked God that it was them who was there and not some stranger; I could only imagine the horrified look on someone completely unknown to me. It was an expression that I had seen too many times to count and it was one that I had hoped to never see on her face.

Instinctually, I raised my hand to cover it, praying that the incident would not be the end of something I had grown to love after all the years of our friendship. Right before my palm reached my cheek, though, I felt her small hands wrap around my wrist and I froze in place. My heart was racing like that of a marathon runner as she gently lowered my hand back down to where it had been and held it there with her own.

“Erik, I’m sorry. I was so caught up in myself that I didn’t realize,” she said. With her other hand, she reached up and went to touch my face, but I naturally recoiled, being all too used to the old trick of a kind touch turning into a painful strike. Realizing that I was uncomfortable, she quickly pulled her hand away, but when I saw her disappointment, I realized that I had misjudged her, so I picked up her hand and held it to my face.

“I guess I’m just so used to...that’s not important. I suppose what I am trying to say is that it’s nice to finally see you,” she continued as she gave me a warm smile, gently brushing her thumb over my cheek.

“Being without that porcelain thing looks good on you,” Charles piped up. He seemed to be doing alright with my appearance, which I was grateful for. Though I hadn’t seen his initial reaction, I imagined it had been the same as all the others who had seen me over the years.

I was utterly speechless, which was a difficult feat for someone like me. It had been a while since I had been met with so much acceptance. First with Lara and now with Maddie and Charles; it felt unreal like at some point, I was going to wake up and find that it had all been a dream. It wasn’t until Maddie wrapped her arms around me that everything fell into place in my reality.

“We’re your friends and we love you all the same. It’s alright,” she said as she squeezed me a bit tighter.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even realize.” I was still so new to a peaceful version of the present scenario that I fell back on my old response of apologies, but I quickly realized that I didn’t have to.

“I tried to tell you, but you opened the door before I could,” Nadir said with a small laugh. In all honesty, that sounded like something that had already happened to us before, which wouldn’t have surprised me.

“I appreciate the effort.” When I looked back at Nadir, I remembered that Lizzie was still in the room. She had only seen me once, in a freak incident that no one knew about and that I was determined to never speak of, but she was still young and I feared a change in her reaction, so I immediately went to cover my face again.

“No, no, don't do that. You don't need to. She needs to see you too,” Maddie chided me before she went to pick up her daughter and bring her to me, setting her in my lap. Without hesitation, Lizzie looked at me and then back at her stuffed animal. The joy of that moment was so indescribable that it brought me to tears, the way she began to lean into me as she trusted me to keep her safe warming my heart. It was moments like that that I thought I would never experience, given that I had lost them with Gustave. To go even further, for a long time in my life I thought I would only ever read of an experience like that. I kissed the top of her head in gratitude, but I could never truly convey my thanks to her.

Maddie was smiling at me the whole time, but then her look turned into one of curiosity. I knew what that look meant for her and began to remember all of my prepared responses for the questions that I knew were about to come from her. “So you were born like this? Or was there a tragedy of sorts?” she inquired.

“I was born with it, yes. If you’ll recall, my mother and I don't get along very well. This was why,” I said as I made a broad gesture to the deformed part of my face.

“Then she clearly needed to look a little harder. She missed the good heart underneath.” I could tell that her maternal instincts were what fueled that response; as a mother herself, it was as though she could not imagine hating her children.

“No doctor has any sort of explanation, though they have theories,” I continued, figuring that they were probably going to keep asking anyway so I might as well tell them the whole explanation. “Inbreeding was one, as well as my mother trying to bind her waist while she was pregnant. Trying to keep that perfect body image, I suppose. Someone even suggested alcohol usage during her pregnancy while she grieved my father, or even something as simple as genetics. Whatever it was, I ended up like this and life became difficult, to say the least.”

“My god. They really thought it was inbreeding?” Charles asked, the shock on his face almost comical. I could practically see the gears turning as he tried to figure out the mental image.

“That they did. Something along the lines of their father being the same. My paternal grandmother died and her widower married my maternal grandmother, but then he died and no one had told my parents of their relationship, so one thing led to another.” I tried to calm his thoughts so that his brain wouldn’t overwork itself, but it was to no avail if the look on his face was any gauge.

“What do you think it was?” Maddie asked me. That question was new, nobody had ever really asked my theory before. It caught me off guard to the point where I had to think about it for a moment.

“I think I must have done or most likely said something to irritate the wrong person and then God just said I wasn’t allowed to be happy,” I eventually responded, as depressing as it was.

That resulted in some laughter from Maddie as she said, “Erik, you know that isn’t true. You weren’t even born yet, what could you have done?”

“He’s gifted, he would have figured it out,” Nadir pointed out, and honestly, he was probably right.

“Anyways. Whatever happened happened. I’ve dealt with it as best I could. That’s what I’ve always done,” I sighed, thinking back to all the ways my life could have been different if I had looked normal. I probably never would have left that little town in France and I never would have met my angel, so I had to take the good with the bad, no matter how unbalanced the scales were. “And we will figure this all out as well. Regardless of what happens, we’re a family at this point.”

“A really strange, broken-looking family,” Maddie pointed out as she looked around the room at all of us. She couldn’t have been more correct; we were a real hodgepodge of an average English family who spent far too much time with a former Daroga of Persia and an ex-Opera Ghost. Throw in a couple of children and we were quite an unusual group.

Nadir was probably coming to the same realizations I was, as he laughed before saying, “We make it work quite well, though.”

“We undoubtedly put the fun in dysfunctional,” Charles said with a small smile, clearly proud of his play on words. We all laughed together at that; it felt good to laugh after all that had happened in a few short moments. A reminder to all of us that William wasn’t gone, as long as his family was around to remember him.

I cautiously leaned forward to kiss Maddie on her forehead; I hadn’t wanted to disturb Lizzie with my movements, though it seemed unavoidable. I did make it successfully, then whispered, "It will be alright, Madeleine. That much I can promise you.”

* * *

A week or so had passed since that terrible day and we were closing in on the middle of November. Lara was at the house and was waiting for me to finish with some dishes so that we could start her lesson for the day. I had had the radio on as background noise while I worked when I heard something that made me freeze to the point where I dropped a glass back into the sink.

“Just hold tight, folks. Your boys are coming home,” the announcer repeated, confirming that what I had heard was true and not another figment of my imagination. My knees buckled in my shocked state and I dropped to the floor. I looked over to the table from where I sat to see the sealed envelope from the school that held Gustave’s high school diploma in it; they had sent it to me a week or so after he had left and I had simply left it in my view at all times. I swore that I would not be the one to open it; he had to do it when he got home. But he _was_ coming home and we were going to be able to open it together.

A few moments later Sasha came over and began to inspect me to see if I was alright. “Our boy is coming home,” I said as I held the dog’s face and kissed her little nose, then pulled her close and hugged her. I must have had the most ridiculous smile on my face as I repeated my statement for good measure: "My boy is coming home!”

Lara burst into the kitchen, obviously having heard me from upstairs in the study, and I jumped to my feet and picked her up in a hug. She was sharing the moment of happiness with me as tears of joy streamed down her face. I spun her around a few times before setting her back on the floor, then kissed her on the forehead while she proceeded to wrap her arms around my waist. I had been hoping for such a moment since Gustave had left, but I couldn’t escape the voice in my head that was telling me that I had no right to be enjoying the moment.

Because Gustave was coming back alone.


	21. A Star in the Night Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bidding farewell to a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updated 11-29-20

_**NOVEMBER 1918** _

_**ERIK**_

It had been absolute agony and nothing less as we all waited anxiously for Gustave to return. The country as a whole was busy celebrating the victory over the Germans, but none of us could be bothered to join in the festivities; between waiting for Gustave to return and trying to process our grief after losing William, the last thing any of us wanted to do was celebrate in the streets. 

The announcement that the war was over and the soldiers were on their way home had set Madeleine miles back in respect to coming to terms with her grief. Knowing that William had been shot and killed mere days before the armistice had been signed nearly destroyed her. I had gone to visit one day but had seen only Charles and Elizabeth downstairs. "She won't get out of bed," Charles had said. He’d had such a hollow look in his eyes that it was easy to tell that he was barely able to hold things together for himself. 

It was another day before I saw her; she had come over to my home, determined to keep the lunch plans she had made with Lara and myself. Within an hour of her arrival, she had ended up crying on my shoulder with both me and Lara attempting to console her. That was a difficult feat, in a way. William's death had still been taking its toll on my own heart at the time, the void of losing the boy who had become like my second son still impossibly deep, but I at least had the reassurance that my child was coming home; Madeleine had not been so fortunate. To comfort her that day was a test of the ability to choose one's words carefully, a skill I had never been strong in, but one that I was determined to hone for her sake. 

Amidst the grief that was so glaringly present in every moment of every day, I finally had an inkling of joy in my heart. Getting to train Lara and teach her to sing had helped tremendously, even more so after the war had ended. Lara's voice had a new life to it; new abilities, new vigour when she sang, as if just knowing that Gustave was on his way home had breathed new life into her. However, the happiness it brought me was nothing compared to the sheer glee I felt when I thought about getting to hold my son in my arms for the first time in three years. That happiness was unmatched. 

The one aspect that made waiting even more difficult was that we had no idea when Gustave was getting home. Every day, I got out of bed and waited to see if he would walk through the front door and into my arms. Even Sasha seemed to know that I was waiting on bated breath; she stood at the window in the sitting room and simply watched, waiting with her tail wagging at the sight of every person that walked by. I didn't blame her whatsoever; I was just as eager, to the point that Nadir had begun commenting on how he hadn't seen me quite so happy in years. It was a welcome topic of conversation; talking about my son was the easiest thing to do. It made me feel like he was right there with me, even when he was nowhere near me. 

Then, the day finally came. 

I was in my study working on a commission at the time. Having newfound joy in my life had provided wondrous for my inspiration; I was completing designs faster than ever before and was pleased with the initial drafts, which hadn't happened in years. Quite satisfied with the work I had done so far, I set my pencil to the page to continue, only to be so suddenly started by a scream and loud barking from Sasha coming from downstairs that I dropped my pencil from my hands. Immediately knowing the scream was Lara's, given that Nadir was the only one other in the house and I knew even he couldn't utter such a high-pitched sound, I leapt out of my chair and ran down the stairs. Was something wrong? Was she hurt? Was Nadir hurt? Was someone ill? A million thoughts were running through my head, and I wanted none of them to come to fruition by any means. I couldn't have something happen to them too.

"Lara, what's-'' I began to ask, only to freeze when I reached the bottom of the stairs and looked at the scene in front of my eyes. It was...it couldn't have been him. He was too tall. He had filled out, his frame slightly stockier and more muscular. His hair had been cut down close to his scalp, no longer a thick mess on top of his head with curls like his mother's towards the tips. But if I ever doubted that it truly was my son standing only a few feet in front of me, seeing his wide, toothy smile confirmed that it couldn't have been anyone else. 

He held a hysterical Lara in his arms, gently running his fingers through her hair before they pulled away from their embrace and shared a kiss. I had a feeling it would have been more passionate had they been alone, but the love and longing that they were pouring into the gentle gesture were obvious. 

"I missed you so much," I heard Lara say as they pulled apart, though the shock I was feeling was beginning to make it difficult to even pay attention to anyone or anything other than my son.

"I know, but I'm here now, it's alright," Gustave said, turning and smiling wide when my best friend walked over and pulled him into his arms. "Hi, Uncle Nadir. God, I missed you." 

"I missed you too, Gustave. It's so good to have you back," Nadir replied, laughing as he looked down to see Sasha jumping at their ankles. "I think someone else is glad to see you too." 

Gustave laughed; that was a sound that I hadn't realized I needed to have in my life until it had been absent for three years of my life. I had gotten so used to being able to make him laugh with my ridiculous commentary as I went about my day, hearing him giggle when Nadir and I would bicker with each other that to suddenly hear it again after years of silence was almost overwhelming. It was far from the boyish giggle it had been when he had first come into my care, but it had changed even more since he had been deployed. His voice too; it was deeper and more consistent instead of scattered with voice cracks. That made it clear to me just how much he had grown up without me seeing it; he was twenty-one, I realized. Officially an adult, his own man. 

"Sasha, you're so big!" he said, a grin on his face as he scratched the dog behind the ears, only to quickly straighten up. 

"Uncle Nadir, where's Papa? I need to-"

It was then that we locked eyes and my knees finally went weak beneath me. I crumbled to the floor, tears welling up in my eyes as I took in the details of my boy that I had missed; the dimple on his left cheek, the slight downturn of the right side of his face that I had come to love rather than despise. It was the small details, the ones that I had worried I would never see again, that I analyzed, ignoring the more obvious ones for the moment. 

"Oh, _soldatino_ ," I finally managed to say, those two simple words enough to make my resolve finally crumble and tears start to pour down my face.

"Papa," Gustave said, hurrying over and dropping to his knees to slide across the floorboards over to me and hug me tighter than ever before. He was clutching my suit jacket in his fists, burying his face in my shoulder as I cradled his head with my hand and held him close to my chest. "I'm home, Papa. I came home as I promised."

"I knew you'd keep your promise, my boy. It was just a matter of seeing it happen," I replied. It was like I couldn't hold him close enough, hug him tight enough. The prospect of letting him go and having him slip through my fingers again was terrifying and I wanted to take no chances. "I'm just so glad to have you home." 

The two of us didn't even move from each other's arms when we felt Lara and Nadir join the embrace. At that moment, there was no one else in the world but me and him. He was the only thing that mattered to me; my child was home and safe in my arms and that was all I needed and all I could ever need. 

I finally managed to make myself lean back enough in order to look at him and cup his face in my hands. "I...God, I'm so glad you're home, my boy," I said with a tearful smile. "You're so grown up. Who let you get so big?" 

Gustave managed to laugh at that. "I don't know but it's fun to see your reaction," he replied. 

"Never mind how big he's gotten; he looks like you, Erik. There’s definitely no doubt that he is yours," Nadir said with a chuckle. 

"I know and it's frightening," I replied. Looking at his face, I realized how very true that statement was. Gustave was around the same age I had been during my last year in Persia, and the resemblance was remarkable; the same sharp jawline and nose, the same thin lips. He was obviously in better health than I had been, but the other similarities were clear. Still, amidst all of the resemblance to me, one facial feature stood out as different, as a characteristic that could not be attributed to my genetics. "As much as he looks like me, his eyes...they're all Christine." 

With a smile, Gustave looked at me as tears started to fall from his eyes. "You look the same, Papa. The same face I thought of every day," he said as he slipped my mask off of my face, setting his hand to my cheek before he wrapped his arms around me again. 

"Don't cry now, my boy, it's alright. You're home now," I replied, giving him a squeeze before leaning back to wipe his tears away. "Everything's alright." 

Gustave gave me a smile before he turned back to Lara, who had started to cry again. "No, don't you cry too, love. I'll just start crying all over again," he said with a quiet laugh. 

"I'm just so glad you're back," Lara said, giving him a quick kiss. "Although, I am also mourning the loss of your lovely hair as well. I can't run my fingers through it anymore now that you hardly have any at all." 

We all couldn't help but laugh at the comment; his new army-mandated haircut was certainly going to be an adjustment. His hair was usually so thick and unruly, so to see him with hardly any hair compared to his typical appearance would certainly be something we would have to get used to. 

"Oh, don't look so sad. In fact, you should probably get used to it; I'm quite fond of it, I might just keep it," Gustave said with a smirk. Lara, however, was clearly unamused by the joke, as she was quick to give him a smack on the arm. "Why are you hitting me? Lara, my love, I just got home,I missed you and I know that amidst all that you missed me too, but please, at least give me a day before you start hitting me." 

"If you know what's good for you, you'll grow your hair out again. I will not tolerate it like this," Lara said sternly. 

"That seems like a legitimate threat, Gustave. Don't test her," Nadir laughed. "When a lady gets that sort of look on her face, you surrender." 

"I'm teasing, Lara, relax." Gustave gave her another kiss before he turned back to me. "Papa, could...could you play something on the piano? I've missed hearing your music." 

"Of course," I said, quickly getting to my feet. "Nadir, make tea and get out those biscuits that I bought only for them to just sit in the cupboard and never be eaten. This is the perfect occasion to finally make use of them." 

"Is it the cookies in that tin that you're going to use to hold the sewing supplies that you have?" Nadir asked with a laugh. 

"Yes, those ones. And the tin is useful, what do you expect me to do?" I asked as I walked into the sitting room with Lara and Gustave and sat at the piano. "Stop pestering me and go do it." 

I glanced over at him just in time to see him roll his eyes at me before walking into the kitchen. Smiling to myself as I turned back to the piano, I set my hands on the keys and played the composition that came together in the moment. I had countless songs that I had put together before with hours of careful planning and rewriting, but with the joy and sheer relief that I was feeling, it was all I could do to play from my heart. The combination of my present feelings and the culmination of inspiration that had been pent up for three years made for a song that I knew would have to be written down and perfected, and when I looked at Gustave and Lara, it solidified that resolve. 

The two of them had started to dance to the music I was playing, simply swaying back and forth, wrapped in each other’s arms and enjoying the company and comfort of the embrace. Gustave had gotten so tall that he was resting his chin on top of Lara’s head. I smiled at the couple, glad to know that my son had a chance at the love and affection with the woman he loved that I had never gotten an opportunity to have with Christine. As they danced, Gustave met my eyes and gave me a warm smile, which I was quick to return. Finally, my little family was almost whole again. 

If only William and Christine had been there to see it.

* * *

"So we finally get to talk, just you and me," I said, sipping my drink as I sat in my armchair and smiled over at Gustave. Lara and Nadir had finally gone home, having lingered longer than usual to spend time with him. Not that I ever wanted to chase them out of my house, but I had been waiting to be alone with my son since he had arrived, so I was glad to finally have that chance. 

"Yes, we do. I've missed getting to talk to you, Papa," Gustave replied. "There were so many moments, so many nights when I needed to talk to you and to have you with me, but...but I couldn't." 

"Well, I'm here now, my boy. We can talk about anything you want," I prompted, wanting him to pour his heart out to me after so long of not being able to. "Tell me about your experience, now that we aren't barred by what you can and cannot tell me in a letter." 

He nodded, taking a deep breath as he no doubt made an effort to collect his thoughts and memories about the past three years. "I know I was fortunate, that's for sure; now more than ever do I realize that. Getting to be in the division I was in, with decent barracks to sleep in and a safe workplace, for the most part, was a real blessing. We had heard horror stories about the fighting at the front and...we got lucky, we did. 

"We were in the engineering division, as you know, so we were working on manufacturing planes to be shipped to the front. Running numbers, actual construction, that sort of thing. They gave us all training on how to interact with our commanders. They shaved our heads, as Lara drew so much attention to, in order to avoid lice infestations, or so they told us. And they gave us guns to have on us; a pistol in the holster on her hips. We...we were never supposed to have to use them. They were a precaution, a formality, but..." 

I frowned when he trailed off and looked down at his lap. "But what, Gustave?" I asked gently. I had an inkling about what he was going to say, but I didn't want to entertain the thought. Not my son, it wasn't possible...he couldn't have killed a man, whether he was the enemy or not. I’d done everything in my power to ensure that he was not like me in that aspect of life. It was simply a game, there had to have been something else that he was referring to.

Gustave looked up at me then, a solemn expression on his face; his brows were furrowed, his eyes darker than normal. "Papa, could...could you pour me a drink, please?' he requested. 

"I'm sorry?" I asked, taken aback by the request. Since he had been allowed to drink, he had never once asked to indulge in it. Not that I blamed him one bit, but I had never actually expected him to drink, never mind ask me to pour a drink for him. He made a point of avoiding any alcohol regardless of the event; he’d seen what it could do to people. I had no idea what was running through his mind at that moment, but I knew it had to carry some weight for him if he was asking for a drink before he told me.

"A drink. A glass of whiskey like yours, if...if you don't mind," he replied. I was tempted to question him further, but decided against it when I saw the serious look on his face; he meant what he had said and wanted me to follow through on his request. 

"Alright. I'll be right back," I said, setting my glass down before making my way to the kitchen to get his drink. I had to forcibly steady my hands to ensure that I wouldn’t drop the glass as I pulled it from the cupboard. As I poured a glass of whiskey for him, I tried to keep myself from jumping to conclusions about what he had to tell me. I needed to just trust him and let him explain everything to me himself; making assumptions would get us nowhere. 

"Here you are," I said as I walked back in and gave Gustave the glass before I sat back down in my armchair. "What was it that you wanted to tell me?" 

“I actually don’t know how to say this out loud…” he began before he fell quiet for another moment, simply looking down at the drink in his hand before taking a small sip or two. I waited patiently, not wanting to pressure him into saying anything he didn't want to. His mouth was moving like he wanted to speak, but no words left him. When he did speak, though, I immediately wished he hadn't when his words confirmed the earlier assumptions I had made: "I killed a man, Papa." 

His voice was so quiet...so broken. It was glaringly obvious how much of a toll the event had taken on him; there was so much guilt on his shoulders that he had been carrying for weeks now, unable to share it with anyone. And for me to know that he too had blood on his hands at such a young age broke my heart. At his age and younger, I was the Khanum's 'Angel of Death' in Persia, the murderer of countless men and women. I had hoped that my son’s life would be so different, that he would never need to know the feeling of taking another person's life. I had hoped that we would never be similar in that way, but the war had ripped that hope away. 

"I...it all happened so fast," Gustave continued. "There was an attack on the bunker, and I was in the barracks and...and there was a German, and I just shot him. Right in the chest, I...I didn't even hesitate." 

Noticing his glass starting to shake in his hand and hearing how tight his throat was getting as he spoke, I quickly moved to sit at his side on the sofa and wrap my arm around his shoulders. "It's alright, just take a deep breath," I said quietly. 

"It...it was just a moment of blind rage. He was in front of me one minute and the next, my pistol is hot in my hand and he's dead on the floor. I don’t even remember pulling the trigger, Papa," Gustave said. "But he was going to hurt Will, I...I couldn't let him hurt Will anymore." 

“You weren’t just protecting William, my boy. You were protecting yourself. Anyone would have done the same.” I tried to provide him with that logic to help him rationalize his actions, though I didn’t believe my words made much of a difference.

His face was buried in his hands; the tears were at the doorstep but still had yet to fall as he spoke: “Papa, what will everyone think of me?”

“What do you mean?” I queried. 

“Didn’t you hear me? I _killed_ someone. I let Will die in front of me. I can’t just keep something like that a secret from Lara or Maddie.” He had raised his head to look me in the eyes as he spoke before returning to his previous position. “They’ll all hate me. I’m a killer. It should have been me, Papa, it should have been me,” he whimpered. 

I pulled him close to my chest and wrapped my arms tightly around him then, sighing as I heard him start to cry. I knew that he was finally getting a chance to openly express his grief to someone, and to me no less, so I knew to just let him cry, as much as it broke my heart to hear it. 

"They could never hate you; they love you far too much. We don't have to talk about it right now if you don't want to," I said softly, gently rubbing his back as he cried into my chest. I realized then how similar the situation looked to the first time he cried after coming into my care all those years ago...eleven years ago, somehow. Had it truly been so long? We had been on the boat back to France from Coney Island after Christine's death. He had woken up from a nightmare about his mother dying, but had exchanged that for living the nightmare of his best friend dying. He had hugged me tight on that night as well, and I had felt his tears soak my shirt then just as I was all over again. It was a painful moment to see as a father, but I had no choice but to relive it. 

“No, no. I want to. I need to talk about it with someone.” His breath was so shaky but his face was going red with anger; he had been holding everything in for too long. 

“It’s alright. I’m right here and I am going to listen.” I tried to reassure him that he was safe now, that it was okay for him to talk to me as he once had. 

“Papa, they didn’t even bother asking William’s name when they found me with him! To them, he was just another number on a spreadsheet after the medics had done their job. Everything went on business as usual like nothing had ever happened!” he croaked, his breaths coming quick and shaky. “I had forgotten my notebook and asked him to go get it. Then there was an attack and I disobeyed orders to go find him, but...but he'd already been shot when I got there. I tried, but I...I couldn't help. There was so much blood, Papa, I couldn't stop it." 

"Alright, it's okay," I said, tears welling up in my own eyes as I heard him choke back sobs while he recounted William's death. It had hurt so much just to know that he had been killed, but now to hear the details of it brought all my grief back to the forefront of my mind with a vengeance. "You did everything you possibly could, my boy, you have to know that." 

"But it wasn’t enough. I still let my best friend die. My brother is gone because I couldn’t remember to bring my notebook to the workroom." 

"You did what you could," I repeated. "It's true, you are never going to be able to replace that kind of friendship that the two of you had. That said, you have to know he's still with you in your heart, just as your mother is, and you know he wouldn't want you to drown yourself in his memory. Knowing William, he would want you to live your life to the fullest in every way humanly possible, just as he did." 

We fell quiet for a moment then, with me still gently rubbing Gustave's back while he tried to take deep breaths to calm himself down. Eventually, though, he found his voice and managed to speak again: "He always was the more outgoing of the two of us." 

Both of us managed to laugh at that, relishing in the fond memory of William. "He was, indeed," I said, pressing a kiss to the top of Gustave's head. "Now, you need to get some rest, to sleep in your own bed. Let's go upstairs, alright?" 

He simply nodded before he slowly got up onto his feet and let me wrap an arm around his waist to lead him up to his bedroom. "God, I've missed this room," he said quietly once we had stepped inside. 

"I would think so. You and I have to open up your high school diploma and find a place to hang it up as well. For now, though, get changed and get some sleep. I'll be just next door if you need anything." I held his face in my hands, simply looking at him with a small smile before I pressed a kiss to his forehead, no longer having to bend down to do so. "I love you, Gustave." 

"I love you too, Papa," he said, wrapping his arms tightly around me again. "Thank you for everything." 

"Of course. Anything for you, my boy. Anything at all." 

* * *

I had fallen into one of the best periods of sleep that I had had over the course of the past three long years, freed from nightmares and the simple inability to sleep at long last. However, I wasn't granted the privilege of enjoying it because I was jolted from my slumber by a scream from down the hall. I turned to look at the clock on my nightstand and noticed it was only midnight; we had hardly been asleep for an hour. 

When I heard Gustave cry out again, I quickly got out of bed and hurried to his room, Sasha following at my heels. Stepping into the room, I turned his lamp on and noticed the cold sweat he had broken out in as he thrashed in his sleep, battling an enemy only he could see. 

"Gustave, wake up, my boy," I said as I sat beside him and gently set my hand to his cheek with a sigh. I had never wanted him to be plagued with the night terrors as I always had been, but that was becoming yet another dream of mine that the war had shattered. 

The simple gesture of me touching his face was enough to make him wake with a gasp, proving how light his sleep had been despite the nightmare. I hushed him as he gasped for breath, not failing to notice him whispering his best friend's name now and then. "You're alright, you're safe." 

"But...but William," he choked out, fresh tears pooling in his eyes as he looked up at me and slipped his hand into mine. “I need to get to…”

"I know, I know," I whispered as I gently pulled him into a sitting position and hugged him tightly, managing a smile when I felt Sasha hop onto the bed and fit herself in between us to nuzzle her nose against Gustave's hand. When even that didn't help, I started to quietly sing the same song that I had sung to him for comfort since he came into my care after Christine's death, gently rubbing his back as he felt him relax slightly in favour of leaning heavily into me for support. 

"I know it's difficult and I wish I could put your mind at ease, but you have me and Lara and Nadir to help you, alright? We aren't going to let you do this alone. We love you too much to allow you to suffer in silence. We're always there for you, _mio soldatino._ Now and forever,” I whispered. 

* * *

William's funeral was a couple of days later, and it was difficult right from the get-go. It had taken some time to get Gustave out of bed, and once he did wake up, he had moved around the house in silence. He hardly touched his breakfast, had gotten dressed quickly and quietly, and didn't say a word to the entire ride to the venue where the service was to be held. 

While Gustave went off to get ready to assist in carrying the coffin, I found my way to sit with Madeleine and the others. Nadir and Lara had greeted me when I walked over, but Maddie didn't take her eyes off of her feet. Not that I blamed her; I could only imagine the sheer agony she was feeling as she was forced to live through the present moment. Elizabeth, on the other hand, noticed me right away and smiled up at me, so oblivious to the gravity of the situation at hand. 

"Hi, Uncle Erik," she said, reaching over to me as I sat down beside her and her mother. 

"Hello, princess," I replied, lifting her up and setting her on my lap. "How are you doing today?" 

"Good," she said, setting her hand on my masked cheek. "Why is your mask black?" 

"Just a little change. Not to mention that it fits my outfit a bit better than my white one, wouldn't you say?" 

She looked at me for a moment, seemingly studying my face and the new mask that she wasn't used to just yet. "I like white best," she finally decided, turning around to sit on my lap just as the small group of musicians towards the front of the venue began to play. 

"I see," I said, managing a quiet laugh as I got to my feet with Lizzie in my arms to see William's coffin be carried in. I was quick to wrap an arm around Madeleine, holding the place for her husband, who walked with Gustave and two of the boys' good friends, Anthony and Stephen, to carry William's coffin to the front of the room. The boys were dressed in their uniforms, Charles in a crisp suit, yet the one thing that united them all was the grief painted on their faces. Every footstep was heavy, every breath shaky. It was painfully obvious how many people William had touched and how many lives would never be the same.

The coffin was set at the front of the room, the lid opened, and while Anthony and Stephen returned to their seats with their families and Charles came back to join us, Gustave stayed at the front. He was to deliver a eulogy; he had prepared the speech when Charles had decided to let Gustave deliver it on everyone's behalf. He said he wouldn't be able to make it through the speech and that he trusted Gustave to deliver it beautifully and my son was eager to take up the task, wanting to do his friend justice. Now it was just a matter of waiting for his opportunity to deliver it now that the funeral day had actually arrived. 

The service was well delivered, the speaker a seasoned one, though it was one of a Catholic nature, which made it the slightest bit strange for me, Still, I could tell that Madeleine, in particular, was truly finding solace in the scriptures being read. I hadn't intended to follow along, instead vouching to listen as the speaker read from and referenced the scriptures, but Lizzie was having none of that.

"We read too," she whispered, grabbing her own little Bible and giving it to me, then looked at me expectantly. 

I gave her a small smile before I flipped to the right page, surprising myself with how quickly I was able to find the right book and chapter. I pointed out the verses in question, managing a smile as Lizzie aimlessly tried to follow along as it was read despite having no idea what the words said. Reading along as the minister continued his service, I understood how people could find comfort in them; it was a somewhat reassuring thought to hear that those they loved were in a heavenly realm with their god. I suppose I had simply become too calloused and had been too many times betrayed by religion and its leaders to believe it. Not that I was shocked about that; having your mother believe you had a demon and having a priest perform an exorcism on you when you were no older than five would do that to you. 

The service soon came to a close, leaving Madeleine in tears even before Gustave stood up at the front of the room. I saw him take a deep breath, then glance in our direction, so I gave him a firm nod and noticed Lara do the same from where she sat next to me. Gustave nodded back at us, took a glance down at the notes in front of him with another deep breath, then looked back up at the room. 

"William Edwards was my best friend," he began. "We first met when I had just started going to school in London; we were just twelve. I was in a new school, a new country, and I was scared out of my mind. On my first day, I accidentally introduced myself in French and not English because I was so nervous. Everyone laughed at me, but Will found me on the playground and asked if I was okay. After that, we were practically inseparable, doing absolutely everything together. He was so much more than my best friend; he was my brother. We knew each other better than anyone else. He knew how to calm me down if my anxiety got really bad, for instance. And I always knew that he was nervous before a school presentation when he would start tapping the Morse code of his script on his knee. His mind was always everywhere and nowhere at the same time. He wanted to get into the technology industry after we graduated. He wanted to see the world and stand on every continent. He wanted a family like the wonderful one he had. 

"This setting, this whole ordeal seems so wrong for him. As we passed under the cold stares of sculpted angels and saints, I can't help but think about how William doesn't fit in here; he was so warm, kind, and gentle. Even still, I know that he is safe in our memories and that all of us will have a little piece of him with us, which is so incredibly important because I still need him. I need him more than ever, and I don't think I'm ever going to stop needing him. Still, a star in the night sky shines a little brighter now, fueled by his memory and the brightness he cast on everyone's lives, even though our days seem duller in his absence." 

Polite applause followed the end of his eulogy, a sobbing Maddie and teary-eyed Charles the only ones who couldn't bring themselves to clap. I watched Gustave step down and look at his friend's body in the coffin for a moment before walking over to sit with Anthony and Stephen. 

As everyone was invited to walk by the coffin and offer their final goodbyes, Lara quietly excused herself to walk over to Gustave and their friends. I looked down at Lizzie, watching her still aimlessly flipping through the Bible's pages. 

"Elizabeth, sweetheart, go see Mommy and Daddy, alright? I'm going to go see your big brother, but they'll take you to see him as well, okay?" I said with a small smile. 

"Okay," Lizzie said, setting the Bible aside and letting me put her down before she toddled over to her parents. 

I watched Maddie pull her daughter onto her lap and hold her tight before I finally went with Nadir to join the line to view William's body. "It's going to be quite sometime before Madeleine finally comes back to us," I said quietly. 

"It's to be expected. No parent recovers quickly from losing their child," Nadir replied. I looked over at him and noticed the distant look in his eyes as we gradually got closer to the coffin, and it was then that I truly realized just how difficult the entire day was for him. He had been in the same situation before, it was all too familiar for him; the pain and tears of having to bury his son were a vivid memory for him, and being present to see Madeleine and Charles do the same only made all of his grief as fresh as it had been all those years ago on the night when Reza died 

"I'm sure that Madeleine and Charles truly appreciate you being here for them," I said as I set my hand on his shoulder. "They know how hard this is for you." 

Nadir simply nodded. "I know. Let's just...get through this," he said, only to frown as he directed my attention to the coffin just in front of us. "That's Jane. Is she here alone?"

I looked over at the young girl standing by the coffin, clutching what looked like an envelope to her chest. "It seems like it. I can check on her," I said, stepping towards her. Jane was best friends with Lara, Gustave, and William, and I knew her well; she and some of their other friends often visited my home to do homework and chat, but she had often come to visit me to talk while the boys were away. I cared about all of them, so to see her alone pained me, especially because I knew how much she had loved William and their relationship, as short-lived as it had ended up being. 

As I stepped closer, though, I stopped a short distance from, but within earshot of, her as I listened to the tearful farewell she was giving him: "Hello, my dear. I know that we weren't together very long, and I think that now, I might just regret every single day that I was too scared to say anything because I lost out on so much time with you. Now that you're gone, I don't know what I'm going to do with myself." I noticed her laugh quietly then, reaching out as if to touch him. "You know, you really don't look like yourself. Your hair is cut really short like you always hated and you wouldn't be caught anywhere in a suit like this. I can't help but be sorry that that's the case. 

"Your letter was beautiful, by the way. Now I understand why it took so long for you to write it; I’m just glad to have a piece of you forever. Oh, I told your mother about us, by the way. She invited me over with Lara and we had a lovely time. You should have seen her face when she found out; she was ecstatic. Your little sister is an absolute delight and a treasure as well; I see so much of you in her. I promise that I will look out for her as best I can. 

"I just wish we could have more time, William. So much was taken from us that we will never know...it just doesn't seem fair. But suppose we could have it all back; I can't help but wonder what would have been, but I guess now we'll never know. What I do know is that I love you, and I want you to know that as well; you will always have my heart. Goodbye, my dear. We truly did not deserve you." 

As her words dissolved into quiet crying, I finally stepped over to her and wrapped my arm around her, only to end up hugging her properly when she turned and buried her face in my chest as she wept. "I'm sorry, Jane," I said quietly. 

"I never even told my mother and father. They couldn't understand why I wanted to come so badly; I missed the service because they put up such an argument about me coming," she explained, her voice muffled by my shirt. 

"But at least you came. He would have understood, you know that. He would have just been glad that you got a chance to say goodbye." 

"I don't want to have to say goodbye. We weren't meant to have to say goodbye. Not like this, not so soon." 

"I know, my dear. None of us were supposed to have to do that, but this, unfortunately, is the tragic reality we find ourselves faced with. Just remember how much he cared about you," I said, gently rubbing her back to try and soothe her as best I could. "Focusing on that helps, truly." 

"It just hurts so much to see him like this. He's so...so pale. It doesn't look like him at all," Jane said, turning her head away from my chest to look at William's body. 

"I know it doesn't, it's hard, I know. I've been in your shoes before, I know how much it hurts," I replied with a shaky sigh, trying to banish any memories of Christine's funeral in order to maintain my composure. 

"I just don't know what to do," the young girl said, her throat starting to tighten up again as she spoke. 

"I'll be honest, dear, it's going to feel like you don't know what to do for quite some time. Still, you need to look to the people who want to support you. I'm one of them, but I am nowhere near the biggest source of help; Lara and Gustave and the rest of your little group will be there, and you know that Madeleine and Charles will happily speak to you about this whenever you need to. We're going to help you." 

Jane looked up at me then, managing to give me a smile. "Thank you, Erik,” she whispered. 

I nodded, pulling the handkerchief out of my breast pocket and offering it to her. "Of course, Jane. Anything to help you cope as best you can." 

She quickly wiped her tears from her cheeks, then returned the handkerchief to me before she kissed my cheek. "I should be going. My parents will be waiting outside," she said quietly. 

I gave her another nod, watching her go before I finally turned back to William's body. "Thank you for every lovely memory, William. I hope I was as much of a father to you as you were a son to me," I whispered, taking a moment to look at his face one last time before stepping over to where Madeleine stood a few feet away. 

"How are you doing?" I asked as I wrapped an arm around her. 

"Just about as good as you would imagine," she said, her eyes locked on the coffin as we watched Nadir say a few words to William before Charles walked up after him, Elizabeth in his arms. 

"That's your big brother, William," we heard Charles say. He was holding his daughter with her back to his chest so she could see her brother, keeping her held tight to his body for the sake of comfort, no doubt. 

"Hello," Lizzie said, opening and closing her hand to wave at her brother, seemingly unphased when he didn't wave back. Seeing that, followed by hearing Charles' quiet sob as he hugged Lizzie tighter, Madeleine burst into tears again and turned to face me so I could hug her tightly. 

I watched Charles turn his daughter back around so she was facing him, but the confusion on the girl's face when she saw her father's tear-filled eyes was plain on her face. "Why are you crying, Daddy?" she asked. 

"I will be okay, sweetheart. I'm just sad right now," Charles said, so obviously forcing himself to smile at his daughter. 

"But why?" 

"Sweetie...your big brother isn't going to be coming home with us. He has a new home to go to now, and Mommy and I are going to miss him very much. That's why I'm sad." A tactful explanation, indeed; to explain the concept of death to a two-year-old while also including a religious belief, all while his son was the deceased individual in question, was a difficult feat, but Charles handled it well. Or at least it seemed that way; I knew all too well that discussing death with one's child was difficult, no matter their age. 

"Will he come visit us?" Lizzie inquired, the analogy of a home meant to reference heaven completely and unsurprisingly lost on her. 

"He is going to be very busy and will be living very far away, so now, he won't be able to come to visit." 

"But we can go see him, right?" 

"It's a very special place where he will be living. It doesn't let people in until they are ready, and we won't be ready for a long time, but he will have everything ready for us when we get there,” Charles replied. 

"Okay. Do we say bye now?" Elizabeth asked.

"Yes, we do need to say goodbye, my darling. Be very brave for me, alright?" her father said. 

"Okay. Bye-bye, William," Lizzie said, turning to face her brother and giving him another wave. "You say bye too, Daddy." 

I noticed Charles bite his trembling lip as he nodded, her simple instruction for him to say goodbye to William enough to start to make his walls crumble. "Yes of course. Goodbye, William. I love you very much, my boy," he said, sounding almost painfully choked up as he waved to William along with Lizzie before briskly walking over to us and straight into Maddie's waiting arms. 

As I set my hand on his shoulder for some sort of reassurance, I looked across the room and frowned when I saw Gustave. He hadn't moved at all; he was talking with his friends, even after they had said their last words to William while Gustave had stayed in his seat, and not once had he said a word to either Charles or Madeleine. I quickly found myself getting frustrated with him, well aware that he knew better than to keep his distance from them at a time like that. We would be having a few words about it at home, that much was for certain, and I was already praying that I would manage to keep my composure; the emotional state of two of my closest friends was in question, and I would not let my son be the reason why they became any more fragile than they already were. 

* * *

As soon as Gustave and I walked into our home and the door was shut, I turned to him to voice the frustrations that had been plaguing my mind all day: "You didn't say one word to Madeleine and Charles the entire service. Why?" 

He turned to me with a frown as he slipped off his shoes. "What?" he asked. 

"Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about, Gustave," I said, fighting to keep my irritation at bay. "Why didn't you speak to William's parents at all today?" 

"I was busy, Papa. It slipped my mind," Gustave replied as he hung his coat up in the closet. 

I scoffed and crossed my arms over my chest. "It slipped your mind to speak with the parents of the boy that the funeral was held for? Somehow, I don't believe that." His only response was to sigh and turn his back to me as he went to walk down the hall to the stairs, but that was the last straw for me. 

"Gustave Destler, if you're smart, you will stop walking and look at me _now,"_ I said firmly, speaking through gritted teeth. 

He listened to me, thankfully; I knew I wouldn't have been able to contain my anger much longer had he kept walking. "Yes, Papa?" he asked quietly. 

"What do you mean 'Yes, Papa?' Were you expecting my question to change?" I asked. "Why didn't you speak with Madeleine or Charles? And 'it slipped my mind' will not suffice as an answer." 

"In that case, I'm avoiding it," he finally replied. "I don't want to talk to her about it, about any of it! Charles either, but her specifically." 

"You fear she'll blame you for it? Look at you differently because you've killed a man?" 

"Yes, and don't tell me I'm wrong to fear that! She doesn't know you've killed people, does she? All the people you assassinated in Persia?" Gustave demanded, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. 

My expression of anger quickly faded into one of confusion and shock as I processed what he had just said. "Where did you hear about that?" I asked. 

"Uncle Nadir told me. Did you ever plan on telling me about your work as a political assassin for the shah? All the people you killed? Never mind the Angel of Music, they called you an Angel of Death!" Gustave cried. "You hide all of those actions from both me and Madeleine for years, but expect me to immediately come clean about the man that I killed? That's hypocritical, don't you think?" 

Immediately, I found my anger resurging at the accusation. "I didn't tell you because you are my child and I don't want to revisit the darkest part of my life with you," I replied. "I was young and desperate for any source of validation I could get, and the shah was just that! I was an assassin, yes, but not because I wanted to be. I was abused, tortured, and drugged to do it! Clearly your Uncle Nadir didn't share my sentiments of feeling like I was drowning in blood, did he? As for your accusations of hypocrisy, I don't believe they are warranted. I hesitated to tell you about acts of murder I was made to commit; your tale is one of self-defence. Our circumstances are _far_ from being even vaguely similar." 

"But why should I tell her? I don't want her looking at me any differently and...and I don't want to talk about William," Gustave said. 

"You know she wouldn't look at you differently, Gustave. With a war of this magnitude, awful things have happened. You went because you had to, killed for self-defence. There is nothing to hold against you," I said, my anger slowly beginning to subside again. "And you are well aware that she wouldn't blame you. She only wishes to speak to you, to hear about how you've been, all she's missed. She wants you to get to know little Elizabeth! And yes, there is an inevitable topic that will arise, but as painful as it may be, you owe it to William to talk to his mother. Maddie has already lost one son; don't let her lose another." 

"How can I go to her?" Gustave demanded, an expression of desperation painted on his face as he looked at me. "How am I supposed to go to the mother of my best friend who I watched die with my own eyes?" 

"You go to her like you would with anything else. It just might be possible that she's hurting just as you are," I said, taking a step towards him and setting my hand on his shoulder. 

"That may be true, but how could seeing me possibly make her feel any better? She trusted me to keep him safe and I failed." 

"You tried your hardest, did you not?" 

"It wasn't enough," Gustave said quietly. "He's still dead." 

I sighed, lifting my hand from his shoulder to his cheek. "Gustave, you must stop blaming yourself. You did everything you possibly could. This war has stolen countless young boys and no one is to blame but the war itself," I said. 

"What does it matter if the war is to blame? It still happened and he died in my arms, just as Mother died in yours!" he exclaimed, pulling away from me and taking a few steps back. "William said his last words to me, I felt his grip loosen in my own. Just as you see Mother in your nightmares, I see Wiliam every single night. I see the blood, the smoke all around that room; it's like I never left! I could never face Madeleine knowing that she trusted me to keep Will safe and I couldn't. I couldn't keep my best friend safe, so how can I ever hope to keep Lara safe? And before you tell me off for thinking like that, don't, because I know you understand. You know what it's like to be holding someone you love so much and watching the light fade from their eyes. If I hadn't been there that night on the pier, would you have been able to tell me what happened? And don't you dare lie to me and say yes because I will see right through you." 

I simply stared back at him in stunned silence, tears quickly filling my eyes. His words stung, and while I knew there was truth to them, what hurt more was how much like he was becoming. Him sharing my physical traits was one thing, but now all of this...blood on his hands, losing someone who meant the world to him, plus the new addition of carrying copious amounts of guilt on his shoulders. I had never wanted that for him; that had been one of my greatest hesitations as a young man when I had tried to explain to Nadir why I wouldn't have children. I hadn't wanted them to take after me in any way; not physically speaking or with respect to the life that they lived. And while he had escaped the physical aspect almost entirely, save the slight downturn of his face, Gustave was living mild recreations of events in my life and it broke my heart just to think about it. 

My emotional reaction did not go unnoticed, as Gustave's expression quickly turned from one of anger to one of concern and regret. "Oh, I shouldn't have said those things. Papa, I..." he began to say. 

"Do not bring your mother into this," I said abruptly, my throat getting almost painfully tight as I fought back tears; I wanted to cry but was too heated to do so. "This is between you, me, and a woman, who has loved you as her own for the past nine years of your life. She just lost her son, Gustave; the child that she carried for nine months, brought into this world and cared for all his life. A child whom I have thought of as my own for all these years, yet who never saw me without my mask. That is the only memory he has of me; one where I am wearing this godforsaken piece of porcelain! He meant so much to me, but he meant a million times more to his mother. You have every right to be scared and in pain, as that comes with grief, but you are _not_ to forget who she is in all of this!" 

My statement hit home for him as I had hoped it would, but I hadn't expected a sob to escape him as he crumbled to his knees. "It's all my fault. If I hadn't...then he wouldn't have...then none of this would have happened and we wouldn't have to have this conversation!" he sobbed. 

"Shh, it's alright," I said as I knelt down in front of him and holding his face in my hands so he was looking at me even with the tears on my cheek. "Gustave, learn from someone who knows; placing the blame on yourself will only make the situation worse for you and your fragile heart. I don't want to have to sit back and watch you dig yourself a deeper grave every second. This isn't going to bring him back, and you know that he would scold you for blaming yourself as you are. We lose the people that are most important to us, even though we still need them. You and I saw that first hand with your mother. Still, the important thing is to keep living, even with the tragedies we've seen. It took me a long time to learn that, but I finally did when I lost Christine and found you. You can't drown yourself in tears, _mio soldatino;_ you have to build the boat to sail across the river." 

Without a word, Gustave hugged me tightly and buried his face in my shoulder, his tears falling onto my jacket. I simply lifted a hand to cradle his head, keeping my other arm wrapped around him. Even with the present mood, it warmed my heart to know he still wanted my comfort; a grown man or not, I realized that a child never really stopped needing their parent, and I was glad to be there when he needed me. 

We sat in silence for a few minutes, holding each other tight as Gustave's tears finally started to slow down and his breaths evened out. I pulled away from our embrace and held his face in my hands again, brushing his tears away with my thumbs. "You need to get to sleep. You have had a long difficult day," I said. 

"Yes, I couldn't agree more. Thank you for hearing me out, Papa, even if I did say some things that shouldn't have been said. I missed talking to you," Gustave replied, managing to smile at me as he reached up to wipe away a tear of my own. 

"And I missed having your voice to listen to, _mio soldatino._ An empty nest is not for me,” I said as I pressed a kiss to his forehead before helping him to his feet. "But off to bed with you now. We can talk in the morning." 

"Are you going to go to bed too? I know today hasn't been particularly easy for you either,” Gustave replied. 

"Yes, I'll have to. I still have work in the morning. My personal life may have stopped without you, but business never sleeps."

He laughed at that remark, making me smile to see his cheerful attitude returning. "No rest for the wicked, right, Papa?" 

"Ah, you've learned well, my boy," I chuckled. 

"Well, I did have a great mentor,” he said. 

"Your flattery doesn't change the fact that we need to get to sleep. Go on," I said, giving him a gentle push down the hall towards the stairwell. 

He laughed as he went, but when I slipped my shoes off and went to step into the parlour, I heard him clear his throat. I turned around to see him in the doorway, arms crossed. "You said both of you. I believe that includes you. Now let's go,” he said. 

"Telling me what to do, hm?" I asked. "You turn twenty-one and you're already bossing me around." 

"Would you just come upstairs and go to bed? I'm trying to save you from your own bad decisions," he replied. 

I laughed, throwing my hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright. Let's go get some sleep." 


	22. A Master Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Putting a plan in motion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updated 12-02-20

_**JANUARY 1919** _

_**ERIK**_

Things had mellowed out into a new kind of normal since Gustave’s return. We were all so happy to have him home and I could tell that he was happy to be back as well. He seemed to have readjusted to being home again as well; for about the first week or so, he would wake up at the most absurd hour of the morning and be unable to go back to sleep. I suppose the years of having to wake up at that time had instilled a routine on his internal clock. Since he wasn’t in school anymore, he had more time to help me run the business from home, which meant we were seeing more of each other in the past month than we had in the past few years. I could never complain about that, though; it was a joy to have him home again. The frequency of Lara’s visits practically doubled, as it seemed that they were making up for lost time. I did have to admit, though, that not having William come through the front door everyday left an empty section of my heart. It was an unavoidable truth that things could never go back to exactly how things were. 

A couple of months after his return, on a day that I knew was important, but couldn’t recall why, Gustave was upstairs on the phone with a client while Nadir and I were in the midst of having a surprisingly peaceful afternoon together. Gustave had volunteered to be the one who dealt with the clients in person and on the phone, and for that, I was eternally grateful. So while he had requested some time alone in the office to have a conversation with someone who was being particularly difficult to work with, Nadir and I had been enjoying some tea and friendly conversation. 

We had fallen into a moment of comfortable silence until Nadir started laughing for no apparent reason. “I forgot to tell you. You’ll never guess what Adele reminded me of," he said as he put his cup on the coffee table. 

I racked my brain for a moment trying to think of who he could be talking about. Last I had checked, I hadn’t done any designs for anyone named Adele. I also couldn't remember Nadir ever mentioning anyone by that name, so I gave up and decided to ask the obvious question: “Who is Adele?”

“Oh, just a friend," he said sheepishly, though judging by the redness building up in his ears, I could tell it was more than “just a friend.” One would think he knew better than to try and lie to me; he wasn’t very good at it. 

“Oh really?" I replied, making it very apparent that I didn’t believe him. “Where did you meet this friend?”

“When we were in Paris all those years ago, she-”

“Okay, come on Nadir, stop being cryptic; that’s my department. Who is this lady?” I had quickly become invested in whoever it was; it had been years since he had mentioned a woman besides his wife to me. 

“Do you really need the details?” He looked like he really didn’t want to share, but he knew I was too nosey to not ask given the option. 

“I want all of them.”

“I should have known better than to give you the option," he said as he looked down at his lap trying to hide his embarrassment, though he wasn't doing it very well; he was blushing furiously, which wasn't easy for a man of his skin tone, and that alone told me how uncomfortable he was talking about the matter at hand. 

“That’s not my problem. Now tell me," I said. 

“We met in Paris as I said. She was working as a ballet instructor while I was new to the country. I met her after a visit to the Opera and we got to talking. We hit it off right away,” he explained. 

I immediately put the pieces together and shock was an understatement when describing my reaction. “Madame Giry!” I exclaimed. 

“I think that might be a record for how quickly you’ve put something together in a social situation," he said as he kept trying to hide his embarrassment, but the tips of his ears were still doing him no favours. 

“What can I say? I’m learning.” I tried to pull things back on track, as he was clearly trying to change the subject: “Now, I said I wanted all the details, so keep talking.”

There was a heavy sigh from him before he continued; he must have realized that the topic was not going to go away until I was satisfied with how much I knew. “Madame Giry indeed. As we spoke, the rumours of the Opera Ghost naturally came up, and we discovered that we both knew you quite well. Having to deal with you and your...actions at the Opera made us quite compatible, we found. So we kept up our letter writing, shared a chat over a cup of tea now and then, and continued talking after she left for America and we haven’t really stopped.” 

“What are the letters about nowadays?” I asked. I was having conflicting emotions about the whole situation. On one hand, I was glad Nadir had other friends outside of our group, but on the other hand, there was something about who that person was that just wasn’t sitting well with me. I thought back to the last interaction I had had with Madame Giry at Christine’s funeral; her daughter was the reason for that whole occasion, and though I had accepted her apology, it would be hard to admit full forgiveness. 

“Just basic things that occupy our time and minds; nothing special, really,” he said as he reached inside his jacket pocket and retrieved a folded piece of paper. “Here, you can read her latest response. I have nothing to be worried about with this one.”

“How sweet that you carry it with you. Close to your heart, no less,” I jabbed at him, already wondering if it was a romantic correspondence or not. 

Once again, his ears betrayed him and revealed the embarrassment that he was clearly trying to hide. “Oh hush, I picked it up this morning on my way here. There’s nothing in this one that is worth keeping secret.”

“We both know that you have your secrets, Daroga. I would like to know what the others entail, though.” 

He let out a small chuckle before continuing: “You wouldn’t like the other ones. A few of them are purely mocking you.”

“I truly feel respected in my own home,” I said, pretending to be hurt. Honestly, though, I wasn’t surprised; he mocked me to my face all the time. What difference did it make if it was written down? 

As I read the letter, though, I couldn’t help but feel like I shouldn’t be the one reading it. I had known Madame Giry well, I knew how she wrote. The words on that piece of paper were only meant to be seen by one person, and it most definitely was not me. 

“Nadir, as someone familiar with subcontexts of the written word, I can confidently say that she is interested in you,” I said as I glanced up at him. 

The shock on his face was unmistakable; he clearly hadn't been expecting me to pick up on her use of words. “What? Erik, you’re being ridiculous,” he said. 

“Oh really? I’m the one being ridiculous? How could you not see it?”

He thought for a moment, and I could only assume he was trying to come up with a somewhat adequate excuse. “Well, it’s impossible to see something that was never there in the first place," he eventually replied. 

“I'll prove it to you then.” I knew he was being stubborn; there was no other reason for his reactions. I accepted the fact that he wouldn’t believe me, but there was someone in the house who he knew would never lie to him. “Gustave, get down here!” I called. 

Almost instantaneously, fear was painted over the face of my friend as I heard the comforting _thuds_ of Gustave coming down the stairs. He was about halfway down when Nadir pleaded, “Now Erik, there’s no need to bring the whole family into this.”

“Well, I suppose it’s too late for that," Gustave said as he entered the living room. He looked between us and I believe he could see that we were at odds over something. “What’s going on, Papa?”

“I need you to confirm my suspicions that this letter has romantic subtext,” I said as I passed the letter to him. The look on Nadir’s face as Gustave was reading was one of pure, unadulterated anxiety, which amused me, to say the least. 

Gustave quickly finished it and made a similar expression as I believe I did when I had done my first read-through. “Dear God, Uncle Nadir. Who are you talking to?” he exclaimed. With that, I had my answer; I did enjoy being right. 

“Her name is Madame Adele Giry,” I confessed. 

Gustave’s jaw practically hit the floor in surprise. “Is this the same Madame Giry I am thinking of?” he inquired, looking to me for confirmation. 

“The very same,” I replied. I hadn’t thought a jaw could go that low without being unhinged. You learn something new every day. 

Gustave finally reconnected his jaw and placed his hand on his chest before mocking Nadir some more: "My, my then. The scandal!”

“We are just friends exchanging letters! There is nothing romantic about it!” Nadir shot back. He was going on the defensive, confirming our suspicions that there was definitely more to it than “just friends”. 

Gustave lifted the letter back up to his face and read a line from it: _"'I long for the day we can finally meet and be face to face.’_ Come on, Uncle. We knew Papa was oblivious, but I thought you were better.” 

“I resent that comment but the point is correct, ” I said, pointing accusingly at Gustave, who was snickering at his own comment, believing he had gotten away with making fun of Nadir and myself in a single blow. A small part of me was impressed with the fact that he was capable of doing that. 

“What is so inherently romantic about this? It is just two friends exchanging letters. Nothing more,” Nadir said, grasping at straws since he knew he wasn’t going to win so long as Gustave and I were in the same room. 

To prove that point almost perfectly, Gustave and I replied simultaneously, “Sure it is.”

An elongated and exasperated sigh left Nadir before I decided to continue: “My friend, I think it is safe to say that she definitely wants something more than a friendship.” 

“On that, we can agree,” Gustave chimed in. “Am I still necessary?”

“You’re done here. Unless you’re interested enough to want to stay and see how this plays out," I said, though, in reality, I wanted him to stay in case I needed backup. 

“Well, I was supposed to go to Lara’s home and speak to her father, but I’m very tempted to stay and see where this goes.” 

It was then that I finally remembered what day it was and shooed him off. “Don't be late. I’ll fill you in later.”

"Goodbye, you two. Enjoy your little debate,” he said with a nod. 

Nadir and I said our goodbyes and it seemed that he had been hoping that I would let the conversation end. Honestly, though, I thought he knew me better than that by now. 

“So, what are you going to do about your ‘friend’s’ desires?” I inquired. 

“You mean the figments of your imagination?” he retorted. He was getting snippy, which usually meant I was either close to getting to the root of things or I was about to be hit. Needless to say, I was hoping for the former rather than the latter. 

“Nadir, for the love of all that is good on the earth, why are you so determined to not see this? Madame Giry - Adele is interested in you! Dare I say in love. Are you going to deny her that?” At that point, I was getting tired of him as well. There was nothing inherently wrong with a woman being interested in him. 

It looked like he was about to try and deny my claims again before he finally broke: “I don't know! I thought if I ignored it that it would just go away.” 

“You don't want this then? What’s making you hesitate, Nadir?” I asked, trying to see things from his perspective, but I still could not understand what his problem was with the whole situation. “Even with everything that’s happened between us in the past, Adele is a lovely woman."

“I just never imagined myself ever being with someone on that type of emotional level again."

My brain finally clicked all the puzzle pieces together; at last, things were making perfect sense to me. “You feel you’re betraying her, don't you? Rookheya," I said gently. 

“Yes, I do. I feel like that every time I experience joy," he admitted before he took a moment to collect himself. Despite all the times I had seen him get emotional, he was still determined to make sure he never cried in front of me if he could help it. ”Every time I see a woman that I happen to find beautiful or look at that wonderful young boy of yours and feel the same thing I felt when I looked at my own son.” 

“You cannot do that to yourself. Take it from someone well aware; telling yourself that you don't deserve joy makes your world so much darker. And you, my friend, deserve that joy.” 

“I just can’t bring myself to do that to her, though." He pulled out the locket that he kept his wife’s photograph in and looked at it with such a pained expression that it almost broke my heart. “To either of them, really.”

“Then take it slow. Think about it; if Rookheya knew you were wallowing in your own sorrow like this when a chance for happiness was standing in front of you, would she be happy with you?” I asked. I was trying to use logic to help him work things out for himself, though I was afraid I might end up making the problem worse. 

“She’d give me the scolding of a lifetime," he replied, still not looking up from the locket in his palm. 

That line of thought seemed to have worked, so who was to say that I couldn’t take it one step further? “You know she would have. Now, what would Reza say if he saw you forcibly making yourself unhappy in his name?”

I was shocked to see it, but a tear actually rolled down his cheek at the mention of his son. “Reza would be so mad at me if he saw me like this," he said quietly.

“Exactly! This is why I am suggesting that you consider acknowledging Adele up on her comments.” I spoke slowly to not disrupt the obvious whirlwind of emotions he was going through. “Rookheya would want you to be happy. Don't rush it if you’re hesitant. Consider it, though. I could see you two being very happy.” 

He finally closed the locket and looked me in the eyes as he spoke: “It’s not just that, Erik. I don't feel that type of emotion for her and I don't want to ruin this friendship.” 

“Alright then. There we go. You know what you feel and it’s fine.” I knew him and I was well aware that he was beating himself up for the situation on multiple accounts. The first layer alone was the one where he feels guilty about talking to another woman, the other was the fact that he didn’t feel any attraction to the woman he was talking to. There might have even been more though I had a hard time believing that he would let me in that much. He and I were the same in that sense; nobody was allowed too far in. 

“Don't take what I’m saying the wrong way, Nadir; I only want you to be happy. If that’s how you feel, though, no need to change that. If you ignoring the comments for a time hasn’t affected anything, continue that way. At this moment, no comment on it is better than one stupid one," I said. 

“You speak from experience. You’ve gotten yourself into quite a lot of trouble by making stupid comments,” Nadir replied as we both let out a quiet laugh as we reminisced about my failed attempts at romance. 

“That I have. That’s why I don't want you to do the same thing. Stupid comments just led me to heartbreak. I never want you to feel more of that than you already have,” I said. 

He gave a slight nod in agreement before saying, “We both really have had our full share of that.” 

“Indeed. We need no more of it.” 

Without a word, we stood up and hugged each other. That wasn’t something we did often, so it felt like that solidified how important our conversation had been. I knew that he had needed it to happen, but I hadn’t realized how much I had needed it as well; I suppose one needs to hear their own advice before being able to take it themselves. I had believed so long that I was unworthy of all the great happiness I had been granted, but finally, I was able to ask myself the same question I had asked Nadir: What would Christine say to me? I was able to realize without a doubt that she would scold me in the same way that my friend’s wife would have scolded him. 

“Keep up your correspondence with Adele. Make no mention of her advances,” I said once we had let go of one another. Tears were welling up in my own eyes and I could tell that he was doing the same. “And tell her I say hello.” 

With his hand on my shoulder and a small smile on his face, Nadir replied, “I will. Thank you.” 

“Anytime.”

* * *

**_GUSTAVE_ **

I stood outside the front door of the beautiful home and I couldn’t help but think back to the first time I had ever walked up those front steps. I had been confused and scared out of my mind. Though it appeared the confusion had passed, the fear was still alive and well. My one question was running through my head like a madman, but unfortunately, that also meant that the possible answers, both positive and negative, were not far behind. Slowly but surely, with a shaky hand, I knocked on the door. 

“Hello, Gustave. How are you?” Mary asked as she opened the door. She was a little woman who had been working for the family as a maid since I had left for my army position. 

“I’m doing well. Is Philippe home?” I inquired. A small part of me was hoping that he wasn't home so that I would have more time to plan this out perfectly. 

After a moment of thought, she replied, “I believe he is in the study. Would you like me to take you to him?”

I quickly refused, as I knew where the study was. That was one of the first rooms in the house I had been introduced to all those years ago. She seemed satisfied with my response and left me alone in the front hall, going to continue with her work, or so I assumed. 

I took my time making my way to the study. My mind was filled with the memories of my first evening in the house; it was in that front hall that Lara had kissed me for the first time. We had told one another that we loved each other in that front hall as well. I had told her my story with her uncle in those same halls. I remembered the anger, the fear, the pain all flooding me at once in those moments. Lara had chosen me then, and in that instant, I knew that she and I were meant to be together for far longer than either of us thought possible. 

I finally reached the study to find that the door was already open and, just like Mary had said, found Philippe in there. He looked to be busy with some type of paperwork and I began to doubt whether or not it was an appropriate time for me to be here. I was about to turn around and go home, not wanting to disturb him, but seemed to have seen, as he called to me when I tried to make my escape. 

“Gustave, right on time. Come in,” he said. I didn’t dare disobey, so like an automaton, I walked into the study and sat down in the chair that he had gestured to. I couldn’t help but notice that there was a brightly coloured envelope on the table in between us. Philippe seemingly caught me staring at it, so he picked it up and stuffed it in a drawer in his desk. He was being clumsy, so it took him longer than it normally would have taken him, but that only added to my curiosity. 

“It’s nothing important,” he said. 

“Is everything alright, Philippe? What was that all about?” I asked. 

He gave a nervous laugh. “It was nothing,” he insisted. 

“Why are you so nervous then?”

“Just some letters from a client.” Again, his nervousness was given away in his voice; Philippe had never been good at lying on the spot. 

“Philippe, are you alright?” I asked. 

Eventually, he sighed and shook his head as he started to cave. “Alright then, I suppose it won't be too bad if I tell you,” he said. It seemed I had broken his rather weak facade. “It was an invitation to a baby shower.”

I was even more confused than when we had begun. “What’s the big deal about that?” I inquired.

“It’s from…my brother.” There was a hard pause as Philippe thought through what he was about to say very carefully. “It’s actually for his second child.”

Those words hit me like a tidal wave. That man remarried. He had a whole new family. He was having a baby. Like I never existed, like Mother never existed. As if I needed any more confirmation that I had meant nothing to him since the moment he realized that I wasn't his. One would think that after being a part of my life for the first ten years he would have developed some form of emotional attachment, but apparently, that was a foolhardy belief. I wasn’t sure why it was hitting me as hard as it was, though; I hadn’t thought of that man in years. 

“His second child. He remarried?” I queried. 

“I received a letter telling me about it about a week after you had left. While you were gone I received word about his first child. It appears he is trying to mend our relationship,” Philippe explained. 

I paused for a moment, unsure of what to make of all the thoughts that were racing through my head. I don’t believe I was in control of my mouth when I said, “It appears he’s found a new life to ruin.”

Philippe didn’t seem phased by my comment; he had undoubtedly heard some of the stories of my past from Lara. However, a silence dropped over the room like a heavy blanket. I had to say something to get things rolling again if I had any hope of asking the question I had come here to ask. 

“Are you going to reply to him?” I asked. 

“I don’t believe I will,” he said. I was taken aback by his response. I was one person who entered his life just a few short years ago while that man was his brother, someone who he had watched grow up and was related to by blood. “He didn’t tell his own brother about his wedding until a month after it had happened and I found out about my first niece after the baby’s first birthday. He has made it clear that he does not want me to play an active role in his life. Moreover, after knowing now what he is capable of doing to the people he is supposed to love, I don’t think I want to repair things," Philippe added. 

The way he looked at me as he said that was a feeling I could only describe as being respected and accepted at the same time. He had taken me into account when deciding what to do about his relationship with his brother, which was something I never could have expected. I truly felt like he considered me a part of his family and that only made me more confident about what I had come there to do. 

The timing finally felt right, so I decided that was my opening: “Philippe, thank you very much for that, and for everything you have done for me. I actually came here to-”

I was thrown off guard then and abruptly stopped talking when another man came into the room; he looked similar to Philippe with darker hair and slightly taller. I wasn’t sure what to do so I simply said, “Hello?”

“Hello there, you must be Gustave. Lara has told me all about you. I’m André,” he replied. I quickly realized who he was; Lara’s older brother. He didn’t have an English accent as she did, but I quickly remembered that she had told me he moved to America to expand the family company there. 

He put out his hand for me to shake it and I was in such a state that my motions could only be described as forced and automatic as I shook his hand and was very unsure of what to do next. 

“If this is a bad time, I could come back later. I’m sure you would want to be spending this time with André,” I said to Philippe. My brain was still trying to wrap itself around the fact that he was there as I was trying to escape, though my efforts were quickly proven to be in vain. Things had gotten thrown out of order in my brain; I didn’t feel comfortable in the room again.

“No, please don’t worry about it. André has been here for a couple of days already, we have had plenty of time to chat. He just came to visit before he isn’t going to be able to come for a while; his wife is expecting a little one,” Philippe explained as he gestured for me to sit back down. 

“That’s wonderful for you. You must be excited about that,” I said, getting more and more uncomfortable by the second. I was unsure whether or not I would be able to ask Phillipe my question with André in the room; I had nearly had a panic attack about asking Philippe alone. 

André sat in the chair next to me and took a sip of the scotch in his glass. “Thank you, we’re very excited! I’ve always wanted to be a father, and my wife is practically giddy. It is the first grandchild, so my parents are quite happy as well. As is Lara; she can’t wait to be an auntie,” he said. 

“Anyhow, enough about that. I’m sure that isn’t what you came here to hear," Phillipe began, trying to steer the conversation back to a place that I had hoped to avoid. “You were about to say something, Gustave.”

“Well, yes, actually. Um...now, my thoughts seem to be all over the place. Pardon me," I stuttered. I had gone over the conversation a thousand times, why was my mind deciding to bank out at that moment? My hands were getting sweaty and my breaths were becoming harder to take in. Maybe being blunt would make things easier; that technique usually worked for Papa when he was stressed. “I came here to ask for your permission to…propose to Lara.”

Something seemed to immediately click inside André’s mind, as he quickly placed his glass on the table and turned to face me properly. “Before you say anything, Father, I would like a conversation with Gustave. It’s not like I had the chance to when they began seeing each other. I never got to exercise my privileges as her older brother. It’s only fair if I get to interview him,” he said. 

My heart dropped in my chest. What did all of that mean? What was he going to ask me? What if I answered the questions incorrectly? I could feel the colour draining out of my face and my vision was getting blurry. André’s intense expression was wiped away and one of concern replaced it as he could tell that he had made me nervous. 

“Don't look so nervous! I’m sure you’re a fine young man, I trust my sister’s judgement more than my own sometimes. But I want to ensure that assumption is correct,” he said with a laugh. 

I could feel the warmth returning to my face, particularly in my cheeks, given my embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I just wasn’t expecting this,” I replied, laughing nervously. 

“Which means your answers will be honest.” His smile as he said that was one that gave off the impression of both fear and sincerity. “So what is it that you do for a living?”

I couldn’t help but think back to that dreadful dinner where Philippe had asked me that very same question, though the answer hadn’t really changed despite all those years. “My father and I run an architectural company. I currently work as his partner, but eventually, I will be inheriting the company,” I explained. 

“That sounds promising for you. It seems you and I are in the same boat then.” I suppose he was right, though I didn't believe that our little company could rise to the power of his and his father's. “Next thing then. What do you do in your free time?”

“Well, one of my hobbies includes music. My mother was a singer and my father is a composer as well as an architect. I suppose you could say that I was born into music.” My voice felt so shaky as I spoke; I really did not want to mess anything up, but I also wanted to come off as confident. I suppose I could only have one of those things and would have to sacrifice the other. “I also do a lot of reading. It’s actually something that Lara and I share.”

“Your father seems very important to you,” André said. 

I didn’t even have to think about my answer before giving it that time: “He is easily one of the most important people in my life. After my mother passed away it was just him and me. We’ve made do and created sort of a family of our own design, with the parents of one of my close friends and my father’s best friend who has become an uncle to me more than anything else. We do look quite odd when we’re all together, but it is my family nonetheless.”

“Family is important to you?”

“They mean everything to me.” Those were answers I didn’t have to think twice about and that I actually felt confident saying. 

“Good answers. I suppose my last question is: Why?” That one caused me to have to think quite hard; I was unsure of what he meant, and he could apparently see that. “What I mean is, why do you want to marry my sister?”

“Oh my. Where do I even begin with that?" I was trying to get my thoughts in order so that it came out sounding at least a little bit intelligent. “Lara means more to me than words can describe. She has always been there for me, supported me and comforted me when I need it most. I’ve always been blown away by her intelligence and her bravery to always say what is on her mind. She is one of those people who always want to know the answer and will stop at nothing until she gets it and that is something I have always admired about her. She knows how to reel me in when I get too worked up about things and my short fuse starts to go. Lara knows when to push me to make me better. I suppose the real answer to your question is why wouldn’t anyone in the world want to marry her? I’m just the lucky fool she chose to be with.”

When I was done with my verbal essay, I was terrified by the silence that followed. Had I gone too far? Did I not go far enough? Did I just mess things up? My hands were starting to shake again and I could feel my mouth getting dry. Once more, it was proven that I really needed to put more effort into hiding my anxiety because apparently, it was visible to André.

"Don't be so nervous! I’m simply toying with you to make you squirm. Lara doesn't shut up about you in her letters, I'm not worried about you. Of course you can marry her," he said. 

At that point, Philippe frowned and decided he should chime in: “Wait a minute. Who said that you had that type of authority? Because it certainly wasn’t me.”

“Were you going to say something different after hearing all of that?” André replied as he retrieved his glass. Such a simple, teasing question, and yet, it terrified me nonetheless. 

“Just because you have a point doesn’t mean you get to have the final say. I’m the father here and that is still my privilege,” Philippe retorted before looking back at me and smiling. “Gustave, of course you have my blessing. The fact that you came here and were so nervous shows me how important she is to you. You are a good man with a good heart. There is nobody else that I would be prouder to call my son-in-law than you.”

Elation filled my chest and I practically jumped out of my chair. “Thank you very much," I said, barely containing my glee. 

After brief goodbyes and handshakes, I left the father-son pair to enjoy the remainder of the afternoon together. I came close to running all the way home once I was out the door. I was over the moon; I hadn’t felt so perfect since Lara had told me that she loved me. Now I had the opportunity to show her that I would love her until the end of time. 

* * *

When I got home, I ran through the door and practically jumped into Papa’s arms. “Good god, you know you can't be doing that anymore. You aren’t as small as you used to be," he said with a laugh. 

Realizing what I had done, I let him go and just stood there waiting for him to regain his faculties. I probably had the stupidest grin on my face, but I couldn’t care less about it; I was so happy that I didn't believe anything could have taken me down from that high. 

I couldn’t even wait for him to finish straightening himself out to share the news: “Philippe said I had his blessing. This is going to be perfect.”

“I’m glad you got the answer you wanted. Now you actually have to ask Lara,” he said, making me stop in my tracks. I had thought everything through when it came to asking her father for permission, but I hadn’t thought to make a plan for the outcome. 

“My god, I haven’t thought this through. How should I propose? What do I say?” A gasp escaped me when the realization hit that an important piece of the whole puzzle had been left out: “What about the ring?”

Papa didn’t respond to me at all, which quickly started to worry me; he was always the one with a plan and several backup plans. If he could offer me nothing, I was truly hopeless. However, without a word, he went upstairs, and when he returned, he had a small black box in his hands. With the way he was holding it, one would think that it was about to turn to dust. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had seen that box before at some point or another when I had been rummaging around in his closet. 

Again, without saying anything, he gestured for me to sit down. Once he was seated across from me, he placed the box carefully on the table and opened it. Inside was a beautiful gold ring with a black stone set in it. It was perfect in its simplicity and I knew exactly where I had seen it before. 

I was afraid to raise my voice too high, so I simply whispered a question that would help to confirm my suspicions: “Is this what I think it is?” 

Papa only nodded at first and I was completely taken aback. “A replica. A good one, but not the original. That one is with your mother,” he explained as he looked at the ring with such a sense of longing that it made me miss Mother even more than I already did.

“Are you sure, Papa?” I had to ask; I could only imagine how much that ring meant to him, and I only wanted to take it if he was absolutely sure. 

Instead of answering my question, he presented me with one of my own: "You love her, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. You know that.”

“If you are absolutely sure about that, then why are you asking me such a question?" he inquired. He was still staring at the ring that sat in between us, almost as if he was having a conversation with it. Almost like he was having a conversation with Mother, like that ring held a part of her that he could hold on to. It felt wrong for me to take that from him. "Your mother would have wanted you to have this; that is something I know for sure. She would want you to have found the girl you love and would have given it to you herself were she here. But in her absence, I am still here and I am telling you that you can have this.”

I could tell that he needed it, so I stood up and hugged him while he sat in his chair. We spent the entirety of the evening coming up with a master plan of how I would ask her. I wanted it to be no less than perfect, and with Papa’s help, I knew I would be able to make it possible. 

* * *

The next day had arrived and I was practically shaking all throughout dinner. The ring sat in my pocket and it felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. After dinner, Papa had excused himself, saying that he had some work to be done in the study, though I knew my father well enough to know that very little work would be getting done that evening. 

After that, Lara and I had made ourselves comfortable on the couch in the sitting room and it just felt so perfect. The candles were glowing and providing Lara with enough light to read her book while she used me as her cushion. She was reading something that she had picked up earlier that day while we were out together; it was a French novel, _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_ , that had been translated into English. I had suggested getting the French version and I would read it to her, but she insisted that she read it for herself first. I was looking over her shoulder and just admiring how peaceful everything was. That moment made me more certain than ever that I wanted to stay like that for the rest of my life. 

I made sure to wait until she was done with a chapter so that she would be able to re-enter the story after I asked her. “I had a thought,” I said to her. My heart was racing, and the fact that she barely gave me a noise of acknowledgement was doing nothing for my nerves. It was now or never, though. "Will you marry me?”

She barely even looked up from the book as she said, “Gustave, I thought we were reading this together. Please stop talking so that I can focus.”

I had to work hard to stifle my laugh; she had barely heard me. I suppose it was all just noise to her at the moment. I should have known better than to ask her while she was reading; I of all people should know how concentrated she could get. I could only picture Papa listening to us from upstairs, probably trying not to laugh as well. It was a risky move, but I carefully reached over her shoulder and picked the book up out of her hands. 

“Gustave, what on earth are you doing?” By the time she had sat up and turned around to face me, I had already gotten down on one knee in front of her. Her hands covered her mouth as she gasped; seemingly, she was finally able to process the question I had asked her while she was lost in her book. 

I slightly fumbled around trying to get the ring out of my pocket, but once it was out, I was able to look back up at her and see that there were tears in her eyes. “This ring has a meaning deeper than I could ever hope to describe. It is an exact replica of the one my father gave my mother. Never have I seen a love so patient, so full. But now I realize that I don't need to see it because I am living it every time I’m with you. You know music has always played such an important role in my life, and my father tells me that he heard melodies when he saw my mother. When I look at you - dear god, Lara - I hear a symphony. Would you do me the absolute privilege of marrying me and help me make the music of the night?” I asked. 

I didn’t know what to do when she didn’t say anything. _Did I do something wrong? What was she thinking? Why hasn't she said anything?_ I silently asked myself. The suspense was killing me slowly. Neither of us had moved from our positions; I was still on one knee with the ring in my hand and she was just sitting there with her hand over her mouth. She could have already said yes and she could have already said no, and I wouldn’t have seen it. 

I decided to end my own suffering and try to get some type of response that I could work with. I knew that the fear would be apparent in my voice as I spoke but I needed to hear something rather than the suffocating silence: "Lara?” 

Instead of a verbal response, I was greeted with the warm and wonderfully perfect feeling of her lips being pressed against my own. I felt her lips smile against mine and I could not describe the feeling in that moment other than using the word perfection. 

Once we had separated, she still had a beautiful smile spread across her face and she looked at me with much amusement. “Was that doubt I heard?” she asked. 

“Never, love,” I said to her as I slipped the ring onto her finger. “Never in a million years.”

We had both stood up and were just standing there holding one another when Papa decided to make his entrance. “I gather you got the answer you wanted," he said nonchalantly. 

Neither of us knew exactly how to respond to that statement, so we simply laughed at how casually he was approaching the situation. Once we had calmed down, Lara left my arms, only for her to go to Papa and hug him as well. “Thank you for the ring, Erik. It’s beautiful," she said. 

He squeezed her a little tighter when he heard her thanks. I couldn’t be happier to see how close they had gotten; it made the whole moment feel that much more complete. “That ring was the gift I gave to my one true love, and I know that I want nothing more than for my son to give it to his true love as well,” he said softly. “Welcome to the family, Lara.”


	23. Useless, Terrified, Overbearing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wedding planning begins and chaos ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updated 12-08-20

**_MAY 1919_ **

**_ERIK_ **

It had been five months since the proposal, and Lara and Gustave had been enjoying their engagement since then. There was a grin on my son's face that was nearly impossible to get rid of, no matter what happened. Whenever she could be, Lara was at our home with Gustave, spending as much time as possible with him while also using him as an outlet to get out her frustrations about her mother dragging her to social events to announce the engagement. She wasn't keen on going, not to mention that she felt out of place telling her parents' associates who her fiancé was. "I'm not ashamed of you by any means, my love, but seeing their faces when I say I'm marrying an architect who is the son of an architect isn't easy," she had explained to the two of us. The nobility had never been a group that I was overly fond of the way they thought they were above the men and women who could actually do hard work and support themselves while being waited on hand and foot. Finding exceptions in Philippe and Lara was quite remarkable, but hearing of those comments made by so-called 'family friends' of Lara infuriated me to no end. Who were they to dictate who she could love?

Those scenarios and comments did nothing to deter the happy couple, though, and they were eager to start moving forward with planning their wedding. They had arranged to meet at our home to finally get started, but as I was cleaning up after breakfast that morning, I noticed how heavy it was raining outside and began to wonder if that would have any impact on Lara joining us. Just as that thought crossed my mind, there was a knock on the front door. Going to open it, I found Lara, drenched and shivering on the front porch.

"Good morning. I am cold and wet, but let's get started, shall we?" she asked as she stepped into the front foyer and slipped off her shoes, her stockings squishing and leaving wet footprints on the floor as she did.

"Lara, darling, you're going to catch a cold," I said, racking my brain for something to offer her. "I...I have a couple of spare dresses of my mother's that I inherited. Do you want to change into one of those? She was about your size, they should fit."

"No, no, I'm fine. They were your mother's, I'm not going to get them dirty and wet," she replied, wiping her feet before stepping into the kitchen.

"Lara, they really aren't that special. There's no other woman in my life to use them, and I just want to get you out of that soaking wet dress." I followed her into the kitchen and watched her pull pieces of paper that had miraculously stayed dry out of her bag and set them on the table. "Really, I won't mind if you use one."

"Erik, you're very kind, but really, I'm alright." Lara smiled at me, standing on the tips of her toes and kissing my cheek before she walked out to the sitting room. "Come on, we need to get started!"

I shook my head as I followed her out of the room; that girl was remarkably stubborn, which made sense considering how she and Gustave butted heads now and again. As I walked past the stairs, I called up to my son to get him downstairs: "Gustave, your fiancée is here! She's cold and soaking wet, get down here!"

Immediately, I heard quick footsteps as my son ran out of his room and bolted down the stairs. He walked into the sitting room, grabbing a blanket as he walked and wrapping it tightly around her shoulders. "Papa, I boiled the kettle a few minutes before she got here. Could you go get us some tea?" he asked, pressing a kiss to Lara's cheek.

I nodded, making my way into the kitchen and preparing three cups of tea. I found a smile forming on my face as I listened to Gustave teasingly scolding Lara for refusing to change out of her wet dress, while she scolded him right back for worrying about her too much. 

"You and your father are the same: overly stressed about everything," I heard her say as I walked back into the room with a tray in hand.

"We care about you, Lara. That's why we worry," I replied, setting the tray down and taking a seat in my armchair.

"I know and I appreciate it, but please stop fretting over me so we can plan this wedding," Lara said, pulling the blanket tighter around her.

"Alright, fine, we'll leave you be. Now, have you picked out a dress yet?" I asked.

Lara nodded, grabbing her bag and digging around in it before pulling out a piece of paper. "This is what it's going to look like. Don't show Gustave, he's not allowed to see it yet,” she warned. 

"Ah, yes. That old tradition." I took the piece of paper from her, looking over the sketch of her wedding dress; a lace dress with three-quarter-length sleeves and elements of a ballgown, in the skirt particularly. It was still conservative for the most part, but the neckline came down off of her shoulders, allowing for the individuality and break from tradition that Lara loved. 

"It's truly beautiful, Lara. It's going to be even more lovely in person, I'm sure,” I said with a smile. 

She was practically beaming as she took back the piece of paper, shoving Gustave away when he tried to peek at it. "Thank you. I really hope everything is going well with getting it made and altered."

"I'm sure it will. Now, are you sharing the duties with Gustave? He's too excited about getting to marry you to not be doing anything," I said, looking over at my son with a smile.

"I've helped a bit. I would like to help even more but Lara is keenly aware of how indecisive I am. Now more than ever," Gustave replied, sighing and crossing his arms as he leaned back on the sofa.

I frowned. "Well, I'm also keenly aware of that, but what happened this time that made it so obvious?" I asked.

Lara laughed, reaching over and patting Gustave's cheek. "Tell him how long it took you to decide on tablecloths, my dear," she said.

Gustave sighed and mumbled something under his breath, only to clear his throat and repeat himself slightly louder when he saw the unimpressed look I was giving him for mumbling: "Twenty-five minutes."

I couldn't help but laugh to myself when he said it. Indecisiveness; a Destler family trait, it seemed. "Gustave, I love you," I said, setting a hand on his knee. "You are my son, my only child. The light of my life. But all that said, you are, in fact, useless."

"Well, thank you for that. I know I am, you didn't have to tell me," Gustave replied.

"You aren't completely useless, love. Still, let me pull out the samples you were stewing over," Lara said as she grabbed her bag again.

"Please don't do that. It'll only make it worse."

"Well, now I need to see them," I said.

Gustave groaned and buried his face in his hands. "God, I _am_ useless. How can I design entire houses down to the minute details but not pick a tablecloth for my wedding?" he wondered aloud.

Lara handed me the two tablecloth samples at that moment and I smirked when I saw them. "To answer your question: You were trained by me to design homes. No one teaches you how to make the little decisions," I said. "But that said, Gustave, these are so similar. One is crisp white and one is off white."

"I know! That's why it was hard!" my son exclaimed. 

"Yes, of course. My apologies for undermining your abilities." I laughed to myself as I handed the samples back to Lara. "Use the off white."

"Yes, that's the one he eventually chose. It just took him forever to do so," Lara said with a quiet laugh.

I smiled and looked over at my son, whose face was still in his hands. "Great minds do think alike, I suppose. Don't hold it against yourself, Gustave."

"Papa, please help," Gustave said, lifting his head and giving me a pleading look. "It's quite possible that if we continue like this, the wedding won't happen until next year."

"Well, we can't have that, now can we? Let's get down to it, then; what decisions have you made up to this point?"

"The date and venue, the bridal party and groomsmen, food, party favours, and of course, tablecloths," Lara replied, reaching over to ruffle her fiancé's hair.

Laughing as I watched him try to squirm away, I got to my feet to walk back to the dining room. "Well, all of this paperwork you brought should help, Lara," I said as I scanned the pages.

"I would hope so. I'm hoping they're detailed enough," she said as she and Gustave came to join me.

"I think they'll be perfect," I replied, looking at another dress sketch. "These are for the bridesmaids, I take it?"

"Yes, they are. We made a choice when I decided on my own dress; the girls found something they all liked and we decided on a dress accordingly."

"Are you sure you need me to help you? You seem to have most of it pretty much set up already,” I pointed out. 

"But the décor, Erik. I can't do that on my own. It's all so daunting, and honestly, I'm a little frightened. On top of all that, we don't have a proper guest list or seating plan yet,” Lara replied. 

"Alright, just relax," I said, setting a hand on her shoulder for reassurance. "This is your wedding; you should be excited, not frightened. Considering it's planned for September, which is only four months away, we should get the guest list done so we can start on the invitations. Is someone helping with those?"

"Father can do beautiful calligraphy, so he's offered to help with them," Lara explained.

I nodded, taking a seat at the table. "Now, sit down, you two, so we can narrow down who you're inviting."

~

"There. Finally," Lara said, making one final note and leaning back in her chair with a sigh. "At last, it's done."

"Thank goodness for that," Gustave said. "Can we go call the bakery now? I want to figure out when we can go cake tasting together."

Lara laughed, kissing him before she stood up. Neither of us was surprised at the fact that that would be Gustave's favourite part of the planning process. "Yes, let's go arrange for you to eat cake for a whole morning. Then we can start figuring out some other little details of this wedding."

"Take your time, you two," I said, watching them go before looking back at the guest list. While it wasn't as big as a typical noble wedding, Philippe still definitely had his work cut out for him. As I read over the names I didn't know, I quickly realized just how unbalanced that list was. Lara had plenty of family coming, and Gustave...had me. Nadir was like his uncle, but not by blood. Of course, there was also Maddie and Charles along with little Lizzie, but still, those were all friends who had become family. I was his only real relative.

I thought back to the letter my mother had written to me before she died, telling me of the family I had in France and who knew where else. I hated that I knew that Gustave had great aunts and uncles and cousins out there in the world. Still, it was far too late for me to reach out to them. How could I even begin a conversation with them? "Do you remember Madeleine Destler, the shut-in from Boscherville with the deformed son? Well, I'm that son!" I wouldn't be caught dead doing that, not to mention that Gustave wouldn't know any of them even if I did. He already knew of the relatives I had been told of and didn’t wish to form any relationships with them, so who was I to object? It wasn’t that we needed them anyway; I had made the point clear to my mother that I had wanted nothing to do with her the last time I saw her. If I had to be his only family member on the most important night of his life, so be it; I would be there for him for every single moment.

I sat by myself for a moment in the dining room, Sasha sitting by my feet as I cleaned up the notes we had made about the guests; making the scribbles on the page somewhat legible would be beneficial to everyone, I figured. As I worked, I was eventually rejoined by Lara and Gustave, which gave me something else to do besides reorganizing notes I had already reorganized. 

"Have you made an appointment to select your wedding cake?" I asked.

"That we have. It's in a couple of days, so we'll be able to make our decision then," Lara said, standing next to me and looking over the guest list again. "But now all of this is sorted, so I wanted to figure out the big wedding tradition of 'something old; something new, something borrowed, something blue'. My dress is my something new, Mother is giving me a sash to tie around my bouquet, which will be both my something borrowed and my something blue. I still need something old, though."

Immediately, an idea came to mind and I got to my feet to act on it right away. "I'll be right back," I said before I made my way upstairs to my bedroom. Opening one of the drawers in my dresser, I scanned its contents, looking for what I wanted to take back downstairs. When I had finally gotten my drawers organized some time ago, there had been one empty one that I had decided to use to hold little trinkets I had acquired over the years. Much of the space was filled with velvet boxes that I had used to hold the necklaces and rings that I had inherited from my mother; I had plans to pass them down to Maddie, but until the moment came, I kept them in boxes so they wouldn't be damaged.

What I had come up to find, though, was in the largest of the boxes. I gently set it on top of my dresser and opened it up, a small smile on my face as I picked up the necklace and looked at the large black onyx stones set in it, the diamonds and pearls around them complimenting them beautifully. I ran my finger gently over the centre stone and my heart felt like it was sitting in my throat. There were so many memories linked with that piece of jewelry; I still remembered crafting it. It had taken nearly a month of painstakingly detailed work, which Ms. Fleck had offered to help me with it, but I had been too desperate for perfection to trust anyone else to do it for me. Christine was too special for it to be flawed in any way.

Holding it gently in my hands, I made my way back to the dining room and tapped Gustave on the shoulder. "Put this on her," I whispered as I passed him the necklace.

He looked down at it with wonder in his eyes, so clearly recognizing the piece of jewelry from that fateful day on Coney Island, then back to me as if to ask for permission, just as he'd done with the ring I had given to him to propose with. I showed him how to unclasp the necklace and placed it gently in his hands, nodded back at him to confirm my statement, then gestured to Lara, who was too busy fussing over the papers on the table to overhear our conversation.

With a nod, Gustave walked up behind her, brushing her hair over her shoulder before clasping the necklace around her neck. "There's your something old," he said, a small smile on his face.

Lara turned to face him, her hand held to her chest over the necklace. I felt my heart jump into my throat when I saw her wearing the necklace; repressing my own emotions and memories was proving to be a difficult battle, but one that I was set on winning. I watched her step out to the foyer to look in the mirror and took advantage of that moment to wipe a tear away before it got a chance to fall. Her reaction reminded me so much of the reflection I had seen in the mirror of that dressing room all those years ago. 

As she walked back into the room, her hand was still held to her chest, but there was a new look of amazement on her face. "Gustave...it's beautiful," she said. "But what about it makes it something old?"

I decided to pipe up, knowing I could explain the necklace's meaning a bit better than Gustave could: "I crafted it myself and gave it to Christine just before her final performance. The stones match the one in your engagement ring if you'll notice."

Lara's mouth fell open as I said that, and her free hand joined the other over the necklace. I noticed that she was touching the piece of jewelry as though it were made of glass, as though it would shatter if she pressed too hard. 

"You...you made this for her?" she asked, her voice quiet. She was well aware of how delicate a subject anything involving Christine was for me, so she was undoubtedly approaching it carefully.

"I did, yes," I replied. "My gift to her to wish her all the best before the performance, to give her a piece of me to have on stage with her. Little did I know that it would be the last gift I would ever give her."

"Then you have to keep it," Lara immediately replied as she finally moved her hands from her chest to the back of her neck, starting to unclasp the necklace. Her efforts were in vain, though; I designed the clasp myself so that I would've been able to be there every time Christine put it on and took it off, having intended for it to be a special thing for the two of us. "I can't possibly take it, Erik. If it belonged to her and it was the last thing you gave her, it's far too valuable."

I gently grabbed her wrists and lowered her hands, smiling at her. "You can and you will wear it. I want you to, and believe me, Christine would have wanted that as well. Were she here, she would have given it to you herself,” I said. 

She smiled back at me, then hugged me. "Thank you," she whispered. "It's beautiful."

"It's my pleasure. Anything I can do to make your wedding all the more special for you and Gustave," I replied, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. 

* * *

The three of us took a break from planning shortly after I gave Lara the necklace, stopping for lunch and conversation, which we realized had ended up taking longer than we thought it would when Nadir joined us. We finally managed to get back on track, though, and decided to start trying to narrow down the flowers. It should have been straight forward, but in the end, it wasn't as easy as we had hoped.

"So the flowers for my bouquet and the other arrangements should be tiger lilies," Lara said.

"Roses," I said simultaneously.

The two of us paused and looked at each other, confused by the disagreement on what was such a basic subject. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Gustave get to his feet and briskly walk to the doorway. "I, uh...I think I hear Uncle Nadir calling me from the other room. Coming!" he declared as he hurried out of the dining room, leaving me and Lara to our disagreement.

"Roses..." I repeated, sounding slightly more unsure of myself than I had intended.

"Tiger lilies," Lara said, a much more firm tone to her voice.

"I really think roses would compliment the dress and the necklace, that's all."

"And I _know_ that the lilies wouldn't be such a stark contrast against the white of my dress, making an even more beautiful pair. Erik, I love you very much and I hate to pull this card, but who will be walking down the aisle holding these flowers? I believe that would be me."

I opened my mouth to raise another point but stopped when Lara glared at me, almost daring me to proceed. "Lilies it is, then," I said with a nod. "I apologize, I don't mean to seem overbearing."

Her scowl disappeared and was replaced by a smile as she turned back to her notes. "Don't apologize. I just really wanted these flowers," she said. "Mother knows an amazing florist, so I'll get in touch with her about making the arrangements."

"Perfect," I replied as I watched her scribble down notes. "You frighten me slightly, you know."

"I think I would like to keep it that way." She looked at me and laughed before she looked back at her papers. "So what's next on our list of decisions?"

"Telling Gustave it's safe to come back now, I believe. Then we can discuss dances and the like."

"Probably a good idea. I'll be back,” Lara said as she bounced up out of her chair and hurried out of the room, quickly returning with Gustave in tow and Nadir following close behind.

"Are we sure it's safe to be here when you two are at odds?" Nadir teased as he leaned on the back of my chair.

"I've already won that debate, so you'll be fine," Lara replied with a laugh. "But we just want to narrow down the dances. I think the father-daughter dance is pretty straight-forward, as Father has already said that he definitely wants to do it with me. So I suppose we just need to arrange the mother-son dance and..."

She trailed off then as she realized what she was saying and a heavy silence fell over the room. I looked down at my lap, starting to fidget with my ring, and sighed shakily when I felt Nadir set his hand on my shoulder for support. It hit me hard all of a sudden; it had hurt knowing that Christine wouldn't be there to see Gustave get married, but hearing Lara talk about the dance that he would never share with his mother made it worse. And I knew that if I was struggling so much, my son was fighting even more to hold back his emotions.

"Gustave, I...I'm sorry," Lara said quietly. "Would you like to dance with my mother, perhaps?" She was clearly trying to mend the situation so things could run smoothly and so that Gustave would be alright; I knew that she hated to think she had hurt him.

"No, thank you," Gustave immediately replied. "I appreciate the offer, Lara, but no."

"Gustave, it's tradition. Perhaps you-"

"Well, damn tradition!" His outburst made Lara flinch and I quickly lift my head to look over at him. His face was flushed like it always was when he was upset and trying to fight back tears. I'd seen that face before, but not on the man that stood before me; it had been on the face of the young boy with so much to say but not a large enough vocabulary to say it. 

"Your mother is lovely, but...but I won't share that dance with anyone but my mother," he added, his throat tight as he spoke.

I was quick to get to my feet to pull him into my arms at that point, and I felt him bury his face in my shoulder, clutching my jacket in his fists. "No one is going to make you do it, my boy. You are going to have your mother with you that night, you know that," I said, gently rubbing his back in an attempt to soothe him.

I felt him nod, but he didn't try to move away from my embrace. I glanced at Lara as she stepped over and wrapped an arm around Gustave's waist. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have even suggested it, my dear," she said softly. 

"No, it's fine. You didn't mean it,” Gustave croaked as he straightened up, tears still in his eyes, and pulled away from my arms, only for Lara to hug him tightly, her head resting against his chest. "You don't have to apologize. I shouldn't have snapped like that, it was unfair to you."

With a sigh, I set a gentle hand on his back, making a decision on his behalf: "Why don't we leave the planning for now? We can pick it up in a couple of days when you two have your appointment at the bakery. For now, let's just relax. I can get fresh tea made and we can have some of Madeleine's muffins with it."

Gustave nodded, looking over at me with a small smile, though I could tell it was forced. "Okay. Thank you, Papa," he whispered.

* * *

A couple of days went by, giving everyone some time to cool off and relax. The rest of the first day of planning had been difficult for Gustave; even after putting a hold on the planning process, after the incident when organizing the dances, he had been quiet for the remainder of the day, even going to bed early. The next morning had been when all his feelings spilled over and I had ended up simply holding him and letting him cry for quite a while. I was glad Lara wasn't there at the time; I knew that she held it against herself for even suggesting the dance and upsetting him in the first place, so seeing him in such a state would only have made her feel worse. Not only that, but I didn’t believe Gustave would have been able to express the same level of grief in front of her; of course, he trusted her, but I knew my son, and he would rather bottle it all up in front of her than let her see the full depth of the pain.

Still, that difficult day passed and made way for a new one, which Gustave was already more cheerful about. He and Lara headed off for the bakery that afternoon after having lunch together at our home, leaving myself, Nadir, and Sasha to our own devices.

"So I don't think we've gotten to talk about this whole thing, just you and me," Nadir said, drying off a plate and setting it back in the cupboard. "Your son is getting married in a few short months. How are you feeling?"

"Old," I replied, sighing as I finished washing the dishes and leaned up against the counter. "I still can't believe that it's happening. It doesn't make sense to me that so much time has passed. Still, I'm happy for him. Thrilled, really."

"Yes, I am too. Especially since he asked me to be his best man."

I raised my brows, surprised to hear that. "He did?"

"Indeed. I tried to refuse, insisting he should leave it vacant in William's memory, but he's your son; persistent as ever,” my friend explained. 

"That is true. Still, that's very nice, Nadir,” I said with a smile. 

"I thought so too, yes. Anyhow, they grow up fast, Erik, there is no denying that," he said. "No matter how much you want them to stay small enough to hold, you can't stop it."

"Yes, so I've learned. I just wish he hadn't been forced to grow up so quickly because of the war. He didn't deserve to be thrown into adulthood the way he was," I said.

"I know he didn't deserve that, but I know you say that more so because his life mimics your own in a way you never wanted it to."

I sighed, absentmindedly twisting my ring around my finger. "Yes, that's exactly it. I'm glad he told someone other than me about what happened; he was so convinced people would hate him if they found out about that, about what he did that night, so to see that isn't the case is important for him."

"Of course it is. I hate to see how much of a toll it took on him; he hardly held it together when he told me," Nadir said. "It reminded me too much of you. It was hard to watch."

"I would imagine. Still, I appreciate you being as gentle with him as you were with me all those years ago. It makes more of an impact than you know," I said, shooting him a smile.

He smiled back, patting me on the shoulder. "That was my hope," he replied, turning his head when we heard the front door open and Sasha start to bark. "Here's the happy couple now. Are you ready for Gustave to be all hyper on sugar?"

I rolled my eyes. "I've gotten used to it over the years," I mumbled as Lara and Gustave walked into the kitchen. "Welcome back, you two. Did you choose the cake?"

"Yes, all of them, apparently," my son replied as he flopped down onto one of the chairs at the dining table.

"Right, I'm going to have to ask you to forego the sarcasm and elaborate, my boy."

"We love cake too much, it seems. We couldn't pick one!" Lara exclaimed, pulling her hair out of the ponytail it was religiously tied up in and running her fingers through it.

"Well, you have to pick something," Nadir said. "As much as Gustave would love to have every kind of cake at your wedding, that is not exactly practical."

"But Uncle, they're all so good!" Gustave protested, practically whining to Nadir.

"You two are as useful as children set loose in a candy store."

"Oh, we know."

I couldn't help but smirk at Gustave's confirmation of the ridiculous dilemma he and his fiancée were dealing with. "Well, are you leaning towards one?" I asked.

"Oh, red velvet, for sure," Gustave quickly replied. " _Definitely_ red velvet."

"I was thinking of vanilla, but I realize now that I have gotten to decide most things for this wedding. We can do a red velvet cake," Lara said, smiling at her fiancé.

"Yes!" Gustave practically shrieked, throwing his arms in the air before jumping up and hugging Lara.

"That's yours. I do hope you're proud," Nadir said, looking over at me.

I sighed as I looked at my practically giddy child. "Am I proud of my son who was in the army and is getting married, but who I still didn't manage to make sure was mature enough to handle himself? I am, somewhat," I said, glancing at Lara. "There's still time to change your mind."

My comment was greeted with a glare from my son. "I truly feel loved, Papa,” he said. 

Lara giggled as Gustave lifted her and twirled her around, the skirt of her dress billowing up around her feet as he did. "I think I'll keep him," she replied.

When he set her down, he kissed her on the cheek and responded to her with a slight mockery in his tone: “Well, I would hope so."

* * *

"We have to plan the seating now."

That simple statement from Lara was enough to make Gustave groan, Nadir drop his face into his hands, and me lean my head against the back of my chair. The power so few words had over us was remarkable.

"Can't they just sit wherever they want?" Gustave proposed.

It was then that the four of us looked at each other, weighing the suggestion and if we could forfeit a seating arrangement altogether. However, I quickly realized just how impractical it would be to let people sit where they pleased and needed to vocalize that thought: "That would most likely be chaotic."

Gustave immediately groaned again, only to lift his head and frown when Lara flicked his cheek. "It's not that difficult, relax," she said. "Let's just get it over with and start with the head table. Besides Gustave and I, of course."

"Your maid of honour, your parents, and myself," I replied with a small smile on my face. Sitting at the head table, at the front of the room, for the entire night, did not make me feel particularly comfortable, but I was determined to put that aside for the sake of the couple.

"Oh, and Will!" Gustave said, jumping off of the sofa and running out of the room to go upstairs.

We watched him go, but Nadir was the one to get to his feet. "I'll go see what he's up to and bring him back. You two keep working," he said as he walked out after my son.

"Well, I suppose we should continue," Lara said, looking back to the sheet of paper in front of her. "Given that Nadir is the best man, he'll be at one of the front tables. Do you know if he's bringing anyone with him?"

I frowned, realizing that he had never mentioned it and that it had never come up in conversation. "I'm not exactly sure. If you leave the list with me, I can ask him tonight and try to get an answer. I have a feeling that if there is someone, he'll be too shy to talk about it in front of everyone," I said.

Lara smiled as she quickly made a note of a vacant spot beside nadir at his designated table. "I do hope he ends up bringing someone. I think that would be very nice for him," she said.

"Yes, I do too,” I replied with a nod. 

"Besides Nadir, I know Gustave wants Madeleine, Charles, and Elizabeth nearby. Perhaps one table for that group. I know our group that we know from school will need their own table as well."

"Yes, they certainly will. You are a rowdy young group when you're all together."

I ran a hand through my hair then, listening as Lara listed off her family members and giving my halfhearted opinion about where to seat them. When it came to her cousins, though, the list of them seemed endless and I progressively grew more tired of it to the point that I needed to say something about it: "Does it _really_ matter where the cousins go?"

"Of course it does! They're family!" Lara exclaimed.

"But Lara, darling, how often do you see them?" I asked with a sigh, turning my head and frowning when I saw Nadir and Gustave trying to sneak out of the room, clearly making an escape attempt. "Get back here, you two, or so help me. I refuse to continue seating Lara's cousins by myself."

"Oh god," Gustave groaned as he walked back in. "Well, settle in, everyone. If we're doing the cousins, we're going to be here for a while."

* * *

Even with all of Lara's cousins, we had managed to complete the seating plan in about an hour before ending the planning for the night. We shared a meal before Lara finally went home and Gustave went up to bed, leaving me and Nadir alone. As I cleaned up the seating arrangement notes, I saw the empty seat beside my friend, reminding me to ask him about a guest. 

"So is there anyone you intend on bringing with you to the wedding?" I inquired.

"Well, I haven't heard from Adele yet after I told her about it, so otherwise, I'm not sure," Nadir casually replied as he sat with me at the table after making tea for the both of us.

I looked up from the paper in front of me, finding a smile forming on my face as I looked at him. "Well, well. I didn't think you were going to pursue that," I said.

I laughed quietly to myself as I watched the tips of his ears turn red, making it blatantly obvious that I was already embarrassing him. "I...I hadn't intended to, but...things changed," he stuttered.

"And how are you feeling about those 'things'?"

"Why are you interrogating me, Erik?"

"I am not interrogating you. You should know, considering you are usually the interrogator in our relationship. I am merely asking simple questions that any concerned friend would ask. If you don't want my concern, I will take it elsewhere," I said with a haphazard shrug, attempting to make it look like I was hurt by him brushing me off.

"Look, I do appreciate the concern, Erik. I'm just still trying to figure out all of these 'things' myself," Nadir said.

"Well, if you need to bounce your thoughts off of someone, you know I'm here," I said, picking up my teacup to take a sip as I waited for him to talk.

My friend sighed, but eventually caved and started to explain: "So your suggestion to ignore her comments didn't go the way I wanted, and she kept making the comments in question."

"Now hang on. I don't remember saying 'ignore'. I recall telling you that you should figure out your own feelings before going ahead."

"I seem to think 'ignore' was in there, but sure, whatever," Nadir replied. "Either way, me not acknowledging the comments didn't do anything to discourage them, but...I didn't find myself disliking that so much after a while."

"Well, that's a step forward," I said with a smirk.

"I would say so, yes. Anyhow, we've kept up our correspondence, as you know; she's taken up residence in Switzerland now, which is where she went after stopping in France for Christine's funeral. And once I stopped ignoring her comments and...started returning them, things progressed a bit," he explained, the redness returning to his ears.

"How intriguing. I've heard Switzerland is nice at this time of year. Perhaps you could go visit."

"I will admit, I have been considering it more and more."

"You look like you could use a vacation, my friend. While you're there, the two of you can spend some time together, then you can bring her back and you'll have a date for the wedding," I said.

"Erik, you don't need to say that just because you want me to be happy," Nadir replied, setting a hand on my knee. "I know things are difficult, to say the least, between your family and her. Just know that if it's going to make things uncomfortable, she doesn't have to accompany me."

"For one, I'm sure Gustave would be intrigued to know how this has all played out. Besides, he loves you and would want you to be happy."

"Intrigued, maybe, but that doesn't mean I want to make him even the slightest bit uncomfortable on his wedding day just because I decided to bring the person I'm fond of along with me on my arm."

"Well, if you want to be sure, the easiest thing to do is go talk to him," I suggested. "You know he'll be happy to speak with you."

"Yes, I should do that. I'll go speak with him now. But if he says that he's alright with it...save a space next to me on the seating arrangement, please," Nadir requested.

"It's already done, my friend," I replied.

He smiled at me, patting my knee as he got to his feet. "Thank you, Erik. I appreciate it. Gustave is getting ready for bed, I take it?” he inquired. 

"That's on the assumption he listens to me,” I replied with a roll of my eyes. 

"We'll go with that, then. I'll just go speak with him before I go home."

"Let me know how it goes," I said. "That way, if it all is well, I can write in her name and we can ask Philippe to get an extra invitation ready."

"Of course I'll let you know. You know that," Nadir replied.

"Just thought it was worth reminding you."

"Well, I appreciate it. I'll be back."

~

**_NADIR_ **

Walking out of the kitchen, already nervous about the question I was going to ask, I made my way up to Gustave's room and found him sitting in bed reading. "You still don't listen to your father when it comes to bedtime, hm?" I asked.

"Never have, never will," he replied, not even looking up from his book.

"Yes, so I've realized," I said with a laugh. "I'm sorry to interrupt your reading, but I was hoping to talk to you about something."

Gustave turned to me then, quickly marking his page in his book and setting it down. "Of course. What is it?"

"I was...hoping to bring someone with me to your wedding. A 'date,' if you will."

"That's amazing, Uncle!" he said, a wide smile on his face. "Who is it? Why haven't we met her yet?"

I sighed, wanting to approach the subject delicately in case the response wasn't as favourable as I wanted. "You remember how I was writing to Adele Giry, don't you?" I asked as I sat next to him on the bed.

"Yes, of course. Papa and I made fun of you for being oblivious."

"You did, yes. But I have stopped being oblivious, actually, and have been writing to her more and more...sharing her sentiments."

I noticed his eyes going wide as he caught onto what I was saying; he was a quick study, just like his father. "Oh my god. Are you trying to ask for my permission to bring her?" he asked.

"Yes, but Gustave, if you are uncomfortable with that or with having her there, I completely understand. Don't feel bad about telling me no if that's how you feel," I said quickly.

"Of course it's alright with me. I want you to be happy and if she makes you happy, then I'm okay with her being at the wedding," Gustave said, only to laugh at me. "But come on, Uncle. I've never seen you so nervous to talk to me! You've never been one to beat around the bush. What were you so afraid of?"

"I just didn't want to upset you by asking. I know how delicate a topic anything to do with your mother and that night is, and I understand how difficult your relationship with the Girys is as well. I didn't want you to be upset by me even asking if she could attend such a major event in your life."

"The important thing is that you're going to be there as my best man. Whoever you choose to bring with you is irrelevant. Besides, it's mostly her daughter that I have an issue with."

I managed a laugh, though I knew that he was hardly joking. "Right. Well, it would only be Adele who would be joining me, naturally, but...thank you, Gustave. It means a lot to me," I said.

"I'm already going to be one of the happiest people on earth that day. I want to make sure that you're having a good time as well," Gustave replied with a smile.

"I appreciate that. Your father has already set aside a seat for her beside me, so that's all sorted. I mentioned the wedding to her in a letter; she can't quite believe you're getting married."

"Understandably. The last time she saw me I was ten."

"Yes, indeed. That was a long time ago, wasn't it?" I asked.

"It was. It's really crazy to think about sometimes; I've been living with Papa for half my life now," Gustave said, a fond smile on his face at the thought.

"Yes, you have. Madness, isn't it? It just makes your father feel older than he is," I said with a laugh.

"I know, and I won't lie, I do enjoy reminding him."

"Oh, you and me both. It's an enjoyable pastime, really."

"His face as he does the math in his head to get to his age is priceless,” Gustave pointed out. 

"It really is. It's hilarious to watch,” I chuckled. 

Gustave laughed, but quickly got his composure to continue our conversation: "So are you going to ask Adele to come through a letter or are you actually going to see her?" he asked.

"I am actually thinking about going to see her for some time and then have her accompany me back here for the wedding," I replied.

"That's a big step, Uncle. But that means you won't be here during the final stretch before the big day," Gustave said. I could tell he was being supportive of my endeavours, but his slight disappointment could be seen in his eyes.

"I know. I really hate to miss it, Gustave, you know I do," I sighed.

"This is important to her, to both of you. You should go see her,” he replied. 

"I really do appreciate the support, Gustave. I wish I could be here for those few days before the big day, but...Adele and I have been talking about meeting face to face for so long."

"Go for it, Uncle. I'm sure seeing each other will only mean good things. We'll be okay here, I promise."

"Oh, I'm sure you will be. As long as you can keep your own head on your shoulders as well as your father's, you'll be just fine," I said.

"Maddie will be around to help with that. Don't worry, though; at least one of the adults in our life will be here when you're not," Gustave replied.

"Yes, as long as Madeleine is here, Erik should be okay. Emphasis on the 'should be'," I said with a shake of my head.

"Exactly. You've raised him well, but it's time to let go." His voice was dripping with sarcasm as he set a hand on my shoulder and teasingly gave me a sympathetic look.

"Oh, if I must. It will be hard, but I'll get used to knowing that he's out on his own." I sighed and rolled my eyes, making the two of us burst out laughing. It felt good to sit and talk with him; it had been much too long since we had gotten a chance to speak, just the two of us.

"But who knows? If all of this goes well for you and Adele, we could be planning another wedding in the near future," Gustave teased, smiling wide.

"Oh, stop it. You...you're being ridiculous," I replied, feeling my cheeks burn and knowing he could tell by the tips of my ears when he laughed.

"You say that now, but you might change your tune in time," he replied.

I shook my head, shrugging his hand off of my shoulder. "Gustave, we're barely started courting...seeing each other...I don't even know what to call our relationship at the moment."

"Look, I didn't say that you were proposing marriage when you get there. I'm saying that, in time, who knows what could happen? Also, I'm saying that you should put me down for chicken at your reception."

With a roll of my eyes, I gave him a flick to the temple. "You're a little pest, you know that?" I asked. "Too much like your father."

"Ouch," he whined, rubbing his temple with his hand. "Look, I just want you to be happy with someone you love. I'm teasing."

"Yes, well, teasing or not, I can tell you are excited about this hypothetical wedding that I can see you planning out in your head."

"I can neither confirm nor deny that statement."

I raised a brow, looking at him suspiciously. "Oh, okay. Let's test that - if you are planning my wedding, what colour suit would you have me wear?" I inquired. "If you aren't, then say nothing."

"I have every right to keep my ideas to myself," Gustave said, only for him to add, under his breath, "But on an unrelated note, you would look good in a steel grey."

"Ah, there it is," I retorted, giving him another flick.

"Alright, quit it! That actually hurts, you know."

"Indeed. That is the intention, you little twit."

"So now I'm a pest and a twit. However did I manage that?" Gustave asked.

"You're related to Erik Destler. That's how," I said dryly.

"I was summoned?" we heard Erik say and, looking to the doorway, saw him leaning against the doorframe, clearly having come to look for me after I didn't come down right away.

"Well, no. I just said your full name to explain to your son how he can be both a pest and a twit at the same time," I replied.

"Ah. I mean, you're not wrong. It is in the gene pool," he said with a shrug.

"That's what I was telling him, yes. He was wondering after I called him both of those names in the course of about two minutes."

"A new record. Well done, my boy."

"Thank you," Gustave said, looking at his father with a grin and a mock bow.

I shook my head. "You two share a single brain, I swear," I said.

"Are you only just figuring this out now, Daroga? You're getting slow," Erik replied, a smirk on his face.

"I've been told that comes with old age. You aren't that far behind."

Rolling his eyes, Erik sat on the bed with us. "Yes, you needn't remind me, thank you very much. Now, I trust you got the answer you were looking for, given that you look rather cheerful," he said.

"Yes, I did." I found myself smiling as I said it, quickly realizing just how happy my new situation was making me. I hadn't thought I could be happily romantically involved with someone after losing Rookheya, but having Adele in my life, I was starting to recognize just how wrong I had been.

"Good. Well, her seat has already been reserved beside you. I suppose you should write to her and tell her the good news along with whatever sort of flirtatious comments you usually make."

"You make me out as such a romantic, Erik," I said with a laugh.

He simply shrugged in response. "If the stories you told me about you and Rookheya are anything to go by, I would say so, yes."

"Listen. I like to think that with the help of literature, I have improved."

"I appreciate you confirming my assumptions about you being a romantic, first of all," Erik said with a smirk. "Secondly, it's interesting to hear your confidence in that area, my friend. It's been a _long_ time since I've heard you be so confident about your chances with a woman. Not since Persia."

"I know. It feels odd, honestly. I haven't done this in quite some time," I admitted.

"I'm sure it will all be fine. You're quite the gentleman, you'll manage."

I frowned slightly, looking at him in surprise. "I think that's the first time in a long time that you have genuinely complimented me. I'm touched."

"Don't get used to it. Still, I can see you're quite taken with her. I'm happy that you're happy," Erik said, smiling at me.

"Thank you, both of you,” I replied. 

"We want the best for you, Uncle," Gustave said as he hugged me. "Come on, Papa, join the hug."

I heard Erik sigh but eventually felt him wrap an arm around me. "We do want the best for you, Nadir. We'll do what we can do to help make sure you get exactly that," he said.

* * *

As time passed, the more minute details of the wedding were worked out, and Erik and Gustave started losing the ability to help, since Lara knew what she wanted and, thanks to nerves and her personality, she stuck to it. In the end, as a bystander, I would most definitely describe Gustave, Lara, and Erik as useless, terrified, and overbearing respectively.

One night, Madeleine, Charles, and Lizzie visited so Lara had another female mind working on some of the details, which meant the men were banished to the kitchen for the evening. In the end, though, Charles decided to take advantage of that.

"So what are you going to do for your bachelor party, Gustave?" he asked.

"Ah, yes. That could always be fun," I said with a nod. I assumed he had already considered it, so I was hoping the following conversation wouldn't be too difficult.

"Bachelor party?" Erik and Gustave inquired simultaneously, though the former wore a much more confused expression on his face.

"You're joking, aren't you? Your wedding is only a few months away and you haven't even considered it?" Charles inquired with a laugh.

"I've been a bit occupied with helping Lara plan the _actual_ wedding! It crossed my mind, but I haven't given it much thought," Gustave said in his defence.

"If I may interject: bachelor party?" my friend queried. I looked back to Erik and noticed a familiar look of confusion and frustration on his face - the same expression that he always wore when he didn't understand something.

"God, you're both useless," Charles mumbled.

"Hey, the only wedding I have ever been to was for a Persian vizier and there was no bachelor party there,” Erik said in his defence. 

"Charles, please just tell him," I requested with a sigh. "They need help if this is ever going to happen."

"Yes, agreed. Erik, a bachelor party is generally thrown by groomsmen to celebrate the last few days that the groom is a bachelor. A goodbye party to single life, if you will," Charles explained.

"That almost makes it seem like the groom is disappointed to give up his status as a single man," Erik replied, his skepticism blatantly obvious. "If I'm wrong, forgive me, but isn't marrying one's fiancée meant to be an enjoyable experience?"

"It is, yes, and it isn't that the groom is disappointed. It's more so that he's closing a chapter in his life and celebrating that fact."

"Well...I suppose I can see how that would be very enjoyable. We should certainly organize it."

Gustave frowned, turning to look at his father. "Thank you for, once again, making my decisions for me," he said.

"You implied that you had already considered it but hadn't gotten to solidify your decision. I'm doing it for you," Erik said with a shrug.

"I mean, I think it could definitely be fun," Gustave replied. "Does it have to be only my groomsmen? A couple of our friends who are also Lara's bridesmaids would kill me if I didn't invite them."

"Well, it is generally just the groomsmen, but it's your party, so it's up to you,” Charles said. 

Gustave grinned. "Good. Nat and Peggy would be furious if they couldn't join us. Anthony, Stephen, and Bruce will be pleased to have them too,” he said. 

"Well, if you have your group chosen, what would you like to do for this party of yours?" Erik inquired.

"Oh, I haven't the slightest," Gustave replied. "Charles, what did you do for yours?"

"Translation: how much trouble did you get yourself into?" I said with a chuckle.

Charles laughed, running a hand through his hair. "God, it's been years now," he said. "My groomsmen and I went out for the night. We had a nice dinner at a fancy restaurant with good friends. That was all I needed...of course, there was also the part where I got absolutely hammered and they put me up in a hotel for the night."

Both Erik and I were laughing as we tried to imagine our friend, twenty-odd years younger and drunk beyond belief in a hotel room. "Did you do something stupid? What kind of drunk are you, Charles?" Erik inquired.

"You act as if I remember it," Charles scoffed. "My friends had to tell me that it even happened."

"You know, you did something similar to me, Erik." I couldn't help but laugh again when my friend whipped around to look at me, that same confused look on his face. "Wow, that was quite the turn. Did you hurt yourself?" I teased.

"I think I did, actually," Erik replied, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "But what do you mean I did the same thing to you?"

"What do you think I mean?" I asked.

"When was I drunk?!" he exclaimed. 

"Oh, this is probably a fantastic story. Do tell us," Gustave begged, a wide smile on his face at the prospect of embarrassing his father.

"This was in Persia. I was at home, enjoying a _peaceful_ evening to myself when a messenger from the palace arrived and told me to come with him to the party that the Shah was throwing that evening. I had to get all dressed up in the overly fancy robes I wore to events like that to deal with this nuisance," I explained, gesturing to my friend with a sigh. "I was supposed to take him home before he did something he would regret."

"You were called in!" Gustave exclaimed as he burst out laughing.

"You partied with a shah?" Charles asked, his confusion evident.

"Indeed he did. The sight I saw when I got there was just priceless, Erik; a cup in one hand, your other hand dangerously low on a woman's waist. Not to mention the harem girls sitting around you. You were flirting and smiling; quite enjoying yourself."

"I was drunk enough to have confidence? What was I thinking?" Erik wondered aloud. 

"I don't know what you were thinking. What I do know is that if there would be any night when you would have slept with the Khanum, that would have been it," I said, laughing to myself at the sheer horror that was gradually appearing on my friend's face.

"Alright, hold on. Who wanted to sleep with Erik?" Charles asked. "Explain that before you move on."

"The Khanum - the mother of the shah. Erik was her magician, but she tried to get him into bed the entire time he lived in Persia," I explained.

Charles frowned, glancing back to Erik. "God, how long ago was this?" he inquired. 

"A _long_ time ago. I was in and around nineteen. She was far too old for me to be comfortable with it," Erik replied with a sigh.

"Yes, that does seem...bizarre to say the least."

"I don't know what she saw in me anyhow." Erik paused then, slowly turning to face me again. "Nadir, for the love of all that is good, _please_ tell me she wasn't one of the women I flirted with."

"Do you really want me to answer that question?" I asked with a raised brow. Knowing him, he didn't want that revealed to people, but at the same time, he was probably going to pester me until I told him, embarrassment or not.

"It was her, wasn't it?"

"I cannot confirm nor deny that at the expense of what little dignity you have left."

"God, it was her!" Erik groaned, putting his face in his hands.

I smirked as I noticed just how uncomfortable I was making him; it was always fun getting that sort of reaction out of him. Not to mention that Gustave's laughing was putting a smile on my face at the same time. "Well, considering you've said it yourself now - she was the _only_ one that you seriously flirted with," I said.

"What do you mean 'seriously flirted with'?" Erik asked, looking back up at me with a frown.

"Well, her harem girls were there with her. From what I heard - and saw - at the party, they were not left out of your flirtations," I replied.

"Brilliant," Erik mumbled, leaning his hand in his hand. "I didn't do anything besides flirt with her...right?"

"Oh, I stopped you before any of that could happen. There were whispers that she kissed you once or twice and that you...well, reciprocated, but those were only rumours. Not to mention that you were drunk enough that you tried to get her to come home with you, but that didn't happen. If it had, that would have meant her coming to _my_ home to spend the night with you, so I was not about to agree to that,” I explained. 

"Well, the shah would have had my head if he-" Erik trailed off, yet another thought dawning on him. "When we went home...did he see me like that?"

"He still had his sight at that point, so yes, yes he did," I replied.

"Sorry, again, to interrupt this _priceless_ story, but when you say 'he', who do you mean?" Charles inquired.

"Reza, my son," I said with a small smile. I couldn't help but recall just how set on helping Erik my little boy had been, despite not having known him all that long then. He had adored Erik, that much was for certain.

"You're kidding! You were _that_ close to something happening. You told me that it would never happen between the two of you," Gustave said through his laughs, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "That's incredible. What else happened, Uncle?"

"He said a lot of things that I will tell you about later," I replied.

"Oh, dear God. Please, just tell me," Erik requested, already bracing himself for what I had left to say.

I smirked, giving him a nod. "Well, you were far from pleased with me for taking you away from the Khanum; you cursed me out a little, actually. Despite that, everything after that is a happy memory for me because, even then, I knew that I would eventually be able to use it against you. Not to mention that it is _so_ much fun watching you squirm when you don't know something," I explained with a nod. "And don't even get me started about the hangover you had the next day; you were hilarious. Needless to say, you took a day off from work."

"How bad was it? Please give us details," Charles said, starting to enjoy the idea of pestering Erik. 

"I said I will tell you two later. It was very bad, though."

"That's the only thing I believe I vaguely recall; that splitting headache," Erik said with a sigh.

"You wouldn't even let me open the curtains anywhere in the house. Apparently, the light hurt that much," I chuckled. "Reza was very sweet to you, though. He made sure you had a cold cloth for your head and plenty of water to drink."

The mention of my son looking after him when he needed it was enough to put a smile on Erik's face despite his embarrassment. "Bless that little boy's heart," he said.

"Yes, he was set on making sure you were alright. Needless to say, you were quite tolerant of him despite how uncomfortable you were."

"Welcome to me during the first year of him being in my life; tolerant despite my discomfort," Erik said, gesturing pointedly at Gustave. "I like to think being with Reza set me up for being a responsible parent to Gustave."

"Responsible? Sure," his son scoffed. "Remember the time you forgot me at the store? And at school?"

"You forgot to come and get him from my house as well," Charles added.

Erik rolled his eyes. "You hear what I used to put in my body, yet you still point out that I have memory loss and a lack of responsibility. A little redundant, wouldn't you say?" he asked, only to shake his head. "How did we get so deep into my idiotic teenage actions? Can we get back to this bachelor party?'

"It isn't hard to do, Erik. I have plenty of stories. You were with me for three years, you know," I pointed out.

"Okay, I understand. I, like many, had a stupid teenage phase. Let's move on."

"Alright, fine. That's enough for now," I said, looking at Charles and Gustave with a wink. I was going to tell them more stories; Erik just didn't need to know that.

"So Gustave, the moral of all this is that we would all prefer that you didn't get totally drunk on your bachelor night," Charles said with a laugh.

"Agreed," Erik and I chorused, though the former sounded much less amused than I did.

"So just going out for dinner with my friends sounds like a plan. I'll get them to make plans and I promise that I won't get drunk," Gustave said.

"Wonderful. Now that's settled and we can never bring this up again," Erik said as he leaned back in his chair with a sigh.

I laughed, turning to the door as Madeleine and Lara walked in, Elizabeth asleep in her mother's arms. "What were you all laughing so hard about?" Lara inquired.

"For the record, _they_ were laughing. I, on the other hand, was dying of embarrassment," Erik clarified. "Just so we're all on the same page."

"I'll tell you on our walk back to your house, Lara," Gustave laughed, taking her hand as she walked over.

"Do I get to hear this too?" Madeleine inquired.

"Oh, you will, my love. You certainly will," Charles said with a sly grin in Erik's direction.

"You all hate me, don't you?" Erik asked. "Every single one of you."

Madeleine gasped playfully as she passed Elizabeth to her husband. "Oh, it's at Erik's expense? That makes it even better!"

Erik groaned in response, but Madeleine was quick to giggle and wrap her arms around his shoulders. "I know, I know - you're teasing, you love me, I get it," he said, chuckling when she pressed a kiss to his cheek. "You're lucky you're one of my best friends, Madeleine Edwards. You are _very_ lucky."

* * *

**_ERIK_ **

"I can't believe you're doing this."

I rolled my eyes as I glanced over at Nadir, who was sitting on the edge of my bed and looking back at me. "You don't need to be here. Go home if you're going to sit here and gawk," I said, turning back to the mirror and adjusting the new hairpiece that I wore on my head.

"I can't help but gawk, Erik. You're standing here in a poet's shirt and trousers - the most casual I've seen you dressed in years - with a new hairpiece that has grey in the sideburns. This is new to me," Nadir replied.

"Yes, I get it. Me accepting my age and reflecting it in the way I look? Unheard of," I retorted, keeping my eyes on my reflection.

"Papa, I'm going to take Lara- what is that?" I heard Gustave ask. Turning to the door of my room, I saw my son looking at me with a confused frown.

I smirked, slightly amused by how baffling the slight change to my appearance was to everyone. "I just thought I would try a new style? What do you think?" I inquired.

"It's fine, it's just...strange to see," Gustave replied.

"Good, someone agrees," Nadir said. "I mean, he's late. I started getting my grey hair years ago."

"Not all of us aged as quickly as you, Daroga," I retorted.

"Well, not all of us had to deal with you for a good portion of their lives."

"Touché."

Looking back to the door, I smiled as Lara walked in with a slight frown on her face. "Gustave, what's taking so long? What deep conversation are you three having in here?" she inquired.

"Lara, look at this," Gustave said, gently pulling his fiancée over to me. "Look at him."

"Gustave, you're being-" I began, only to stop when he held his hand up to silence me. "Alright then."

"Just look at him and tell me when you see something different," Gustave instructed.

I sighed, watching as Lara looked at me with the same frown still on her face. Eventually, though, it faded and made way for a surprised expression instead. "Oh my, Erik, you didn't," she said.

"Trust me, love, he did," Gustave replied with a nod.

I couldn't help but laugh at the reactions I was receiving. "You all look so shocked. You make it out as if you don't like it."

"No, no, Papa, it's not that. We just weren't expecting it, that's all."

"Well, I'm indifferent," Nadir said with a shrug, getting up and walking over to stand next to my son.

I looked at him and shot him a glare. "When did I ask for your opinion?" I inquired.

"You don't need to ask. Consider it another one of the many services I offered," he replied.

"Don't you have your own home to spend time in?"

"Don't you have any other friends your own age?"

"Who needs friends when I have an enemy like you?"

"Oh, you know you can't function without me for extended periods of time."

I opened my mouth to retaliate once more, only to stop when Lara flicked my arm, doing the same to Nadir and Gustave, who had yet to stop laughing. "Stop it, all of you," she said, though she couldn't stop a laugh of her own from slipping out.

"Why? You have to admit that they fight like a married couple," Gustave replied, clearly seeking to defend his laughter.

Nadir and I looked back at each other, only to shudder at the concept and turn away again. "No we don't," we said simultaneously.

Lara couldn't help but laugh along with her fiancé by that point. "Well, they do talk at the same time," she added. "It's actually quite cute."

"No, we- oh, stop it!" Nadir and I snapped at each other.

"All jokes aside, though, I think the grey makes you look very dapper, Erik," Lara said, managing to stop laughing and looking at me with a smile.

I nodded, glancing back at myself in the mirror. "Thank you, Lara. That was somewhat the aim, besides accepting the fact that I am indeed ageing. At least _someone_ bothers to say something nice," I said.

"You know what, Destler?" Nadir said with a raised brow.

"Alright, alright, I think we're all quite exhausted from the planning today," Gustave said, deciding to step in before Nadir and I started bickering again. "I'm going to take Lara home, and I expect to see you both alive when I get home."

"No promises," I said, glaring at Nadir as we spoke at the same time again. "As tempting as it may be to finally silence this echo that I seem to have."

* * *

**_GUSTAVE_ **

"I can't believe your father was flirting with the Khanum herself," Lara said with a giggle as we walked hand-in-hand down the street to her home. "That’s sort of amazing."

"I know, I still can't quite wrap my head around it either. Especially since he always denied anything happened with them," I laughed. "To be fair, based on his reaction, I don't believe he even remembers it."

"I'm surprised he got out of Persia with his head on his shoulders. The shah really must have missed that, or he just liked your father," Lara guessed as the two of us walked up the front steps of her home. "Either way, I'm glad that he made it out because it means that I got to meet you."

I couldn't help but smile at her, and that smile only widened when she mirrored the expression on her own face. Every day with everything she did, every word she said, made me fall more and more in love with her, and I was only getting more anxious to be able to call her my wife. 

Taking her hand, I lifted it to my lips and gently kissed her knuckles. "Sweet dreams, _ma chère,"_ I whispered before I walked down the stairs.

"Forgetting something?" I heard her ask. Turning around, I found her watching me expectantly, a small smile playing on her lips and a light blush dusting her cheeks.

"Ah, of course. How could I forget?" I quickly stepped back up the stairs and wrapped my arm around her waist, my other hand cupping her cheek. "I love you, Lara," I whispered as I leaned forward and pressed my lips to hers, feeling even more perfect than I had before. 


	24. It Seems Like Only Yesterday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gustave and Lara tie the knot!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updated 12-14-20

**_SEPTEMBER 1919_ **

**_ERIK_ **

I was awoken by the familiar sound of my son running down the hall to my room and tried to brace myself for the bombardment of when he arrived. It seemed my efforts were in vain, though, considering I hadn’t expected him to start shaking me from my half-asleep state.

“Papa, wake up! I’m getting married today! Get up!” he exclaimed.

“I’m awake, I’m awake. Is there a fire? What's going on?” I asked as I peeled myself off the pillow that was feeling all too comfortable right about now. I don’t believe I properly heard what he had said, but I did remember him yelling at me to get up.

When I looked at my son, he looked absolutely exhausted with me and it wasn’t even eight o’clock in the morning. “Papa, that’s not funny. Come on, we have to get ready! I’m getting married today!” he repeated.

He ran out of the room as quickly as he had run in and was already halfway down the stairs before I had even put on my slippers. _Dear god, my son is getting married today,_ I thought to myself. I looked over to the other half of my bed, intent on saying what I had been thinking, only to find myself disappointed when I saw an empty spot beside me. What had I expected to see? Was I really delirious enough to think that I could turn over in bed and see her as I had that night when I had woken up beside her and just looked at her before I left? Had I actually thought I would see her chestnut curls spread across her pillow, a messy few having fallen into her face while she slept? That I would feel her laying next to me, ready to share the incredible day ahead with me? How could I have been so foolish?

Instead of her, the only thing that was over there was the nightstand where I kept most of my more valuable trinkets. I could hear Sasha’s little paws scramble across the floorboards as she chased Gustave around the main floor, and I decided I still had a moment to myself before I was needed downstairs, so I got up, went over to the nightstand and opened the top drawer. The bottom one was larger and was able to hold the bigger boxed items, but the top was ideal for letters and photographs.

Carefully, I pulled out a well-worn photograph of one of the people who deserved to be witnessing what the day had in store today but couldn’t; my Christine. I looked into her eyes and I couldn’t help but notice yet again how similar Gustave’s were. It felt wrong that I was experiencing this day and she wasn’t. It felt like our roles should be reversed; I did not deserve the happiness I had been given and she deserved more happiness than she had had a chance to receive.

“Oh, Christine. My Christine, you’ll never guess what is happening today,” I said, running my finger over her cheek as I spoke, remembering the feel of her skin beneath my hand when I last saw her. “Our boy is getting married. It doesn’t feel like he’s old enough, I know; you’ve been gone longer than you think. I do believe he’s ready for this, though. You’d have loved Lara; you and she would have become the best of friends, I am sure of it. She is smart and she knows how to balance out Gustave in the best of ways.

“I hope you don’t mind but I gave her your necklace. You should have seen her in it; she looked beautiful. She loves him, Angel, I know that for certain. You know he wants you to be here with him so badly; it’s eating him up little by little on the inside. He’s just wishing you were somehow here again, and so am I, really. I know you’re always with us, but I suppose I wish you could be here in a different way, for both of us. Nevertheless, I’ll take good care of things today. I love you very much, Christine.”

I carefully put the photograph back in the drawer after kissing my finger and placing it to her lips. There was a part of me that knew it was foolish to talk to a picture like I just had, but the greater part of me felt like Christine could hear me and that it was easier to talk to her if I could see her face. Her words were echoing in my ears as I went downstairs to find out what Gustave was doing. She had told me to take the love that I deserve, and though I knew that love would never come from another woman, the love of our son was more than enough for me.

I came down the stairs to find Gustave in the kitchen, seemingly having already fed Sasha and let her out. Now it seemed that he was trying to scarf down an apple and it looked like he couldn’t feed himself fast enough. “Slow down. You don't need to choke to death on your wedding day,” I warned.

He turned to face me, his cheeks puffed out from how full they were. “I need to get dressed!” was what I believe he said, though one could never be sure when someone talked with their mouth full.

I walked up to him and took the apple core from him before walking over to the kettle to put it on. “Gustave, the ceremony isn’t for a few hours. Relax, please,” I said.

“I can’t relax. I’m part you, remember?” he replied as he gave me one of those matter-of-fact expressions that he was famous for when he tried to be sarcastic with me.

"I won’t lie, that’s a fair point," I remarked as I fiddled with the stove, the rest of my body not properly quite awake just yet. “But there's no need to get short with me. I’ll make you a cup of tea; no coffee this morning, you’re energized enough. Put some bread in the toaster and go change your pants at least.”

“Okay, okay. I’m going,” Gustave said. I turned away for a moment to get the mugs from the cupboard and I looked back to see him sliding across the tiled floor in his socks towards the door, only to fail to brace himself properly on his way to the toaster and nearly fall over.

“Gustave Destler, if you slip and fall and crack your skull, don't expect sympathy,” I scolded him as I took off my slipper and whacked him on the head with it.

“I’ll be fine, I am actually quite good at this,” he said as he attempted to slide out of the kitchen, only to almost fall again. He didn’t even look at me as he stood up straight and rubbed the back of his leg; I could only assume he had either almost or had actually pulled something. “Not one word. I am an adult. I can make my own decisions.”

“If that decision is to die on your wedding day, so be it. Lara will not be pleased.”

“Believe me, neither will Philippe.”

“And yet you continue to do it. You never fail to baffle me, my boy. Never,” I said to him with an incredulous look on my face. Sometimes he was so logical and precise, then other times that boy made absolutely no sense at all. I suppose that was only more evidence than ever that he and I were the same.

“What can I say? I live to entertain," he said as he stood up and did a little bow as though he just finished a performance.

“Would you go get ready? Your toast is almost done and it’s going to get cold,” I said, shooing him away by threatening to hit him with my slipper again.

“I’m going!” he said as he nearly slipped again trying to get away from me. “Weren’t you the one insisting that I have time?”

A deep sigh escaped me as I realized he did have a point; his logic could be infuriating at times. “Yes, but I’m rushing you because I want this conversation to end.”

“Wow, I’m hurt,” Gustave said as he was walking back down the hall towards the staircase but I could tell by his tone that he was pretending to be wounded. “I thought you enjoyed our little morning chats. Especially because this is one of our last ones”

In all honesty, that realization hit me like a ton of bricks. The wedding day had finally arrived and he and Lara had already begun to get ready to move in together, after all. I had been avoiding the idea that Gustave wouldn’t be living with me anymore and that it would be just me living in our home, I knew that. The thought occurred to me that the entire situation was ironic, considering that the house was only ever meant to accommodate me, but it would feel much too big being alone here.

“I do, and I will miss them. But not this one. It involves you being ridiculous. Now go or I’ll eat your toast,” I replied.

The footsteps I had been hearing came to a halt just before Gustave ran back down the stairs to point an accusing finger at me as he said, "Don't you dare touch my toast.”

“If you aren’t down here in two minutes, I might," I said, realizing I could use that as a tool to get him to start moving. “With that lovely jam Lara makes as well. I’m rather hungry, you know. Besides, you did already eat that apple.”

He took a moment and I could tell by the look on his face that he was trying to figure out if I was serious or not, but he quickly realized that it was better safe than sorry and bolted upstairs. I didn’t hear much from him until he came running downstairs. I was quite shocked to see that, in record time, he had gotten into his pants and undershirt.

“Where’s my toast?” he demanded as he stumbled into the kitchen.

I decided it would be much more fun to toy with him so, very nonchalantly, I responded to his question with one of my own: "What toast?”

“Papa, my toast! I need breakfast to have the energy for today!” he whined. The look on his face was hilarious and partially pathetic; it seemed that everything was going to be dealt with similarly that day. “I got ready as you said. You promised you wouldn’t eat my toast!”

“I don’t remember promising anything," I said as I tried to mess with him a little more for my own amusement. However, the look on his face told me that he was having none of it, so begrudgingly, I picked up his plate from behind me and gave it to him. “I’m only toying with you, relax! Here it is.” ****

Once he had it, Gustave practically inhaled his toast to the point where I wasn’t sure if he was actually chewing. Not only that, but once his coffee was placed in front of him, he threw it back so fast that I was worried he would scald his mouth. The second he was done he stood up again and ran out of the kitchen. As he was going down the hall, he yelled back to me, “I’m going to go get the rest of my suit on. You have to call the boys and make sure they’re on their way here, then get ready yourself!”

“Gustave Destler, get back here now!” I called with a roll of my eyes. He ran back in and looked at me, very confused, but I was about to make everything crystal clear to him. I had finally gotten the chance to look at the wall clock and I was absolutely exhausted by him already. “Gustave, look at the clock.”

“Yes, it’s nine o’clock. The ceremony starts at two. Not a lot of time!” He looked completely unphased by that fact and how ridiculous he was acting.

“That’s five hours. Only the girls would need that much time to get ready. Face it; they have more to do than us. Believe me, I know the extent of it,” I explained, remembering the days back in the opera house when I would watch the chorus girls fret endlessly over the rouge for their cheeks or their charcoal liners for their eyes; it never seemed to end. “Now, sit down and enjoy the morning a little longer. You’re getting married, you’ll be moving out! Enjoy the last morning of officially being my little boy, will you?”

He sighed, probably realizing that I had a point, and sat down again, only for him to stand right back up again and race over to the telephone in the sitting room. “Alright, fine. I’m still calling the boys, though, to make sure they’re awake,” he said once he was already over there.

“Yes, your friends might not be up. That would be best,” I called back to him, smiling as I spread the jam across my own toast. Once that was ready, I was finally able to sit down with my cup of tea. I decided to pass my time by reading the morning paper, and when Gustave came back, he had somehow gotten into his full tuxedo.

“I can’t wait to see Lara. I miss her,” he whined to me as he finally sat down again.

“You saw her yesterday,” I responded, not having the energy just yet to look up from the article I was reading. I did not have the stamina to indulge his whining, and I believed a small part of him knew that. “You know the tradition; you can’t see her until you’re at the altar. You’ll see her in a couple of hours, you’ll live.”

“You were the same with Mother, what are you talking about?” He was playing a dangerous game and he knew it when he pulled the paper down to look me in the eyes.

“Not important. Again, you’ll survive.” He seemed to have forgotten that I had never been so lucky as to have my wedding day with his mother, though the basis for his statement was true; I was always ever so anxious to see Christine for a lesson despite having seen her the night before.

I needed to change the subject before I embarrassed myself. “Are your friends up and about?” I queried.

“If they weren’t before, now they are,” he said with a cheeky grin on his face. “Though, in all honesty, I believe a telephone ringing at nine o’clock in the morning is a much nicer wake-up call compared to a trumpet at five-thirty.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of some of his friends being terrified by the ringing, though there was some truth in the comparison; I remembered the first few weeks after Gustave had come home when he would wake up at five in the morning just for the sake of routine. “Fair point. Who got scared awake by the phone ringing? At least one of them, I assume,” I said.

“Almost all of them, actually. Especially Uncle Nadir.”

So that’s where the cocky grin had come from. Nadir had only just come back from Switzerland a few days ago with Madame Giry by his side; I assumed he had gotten used to a lifestyle where Gustave and I weren’t calling him at all hours of the day.

“Surprisingly, it was actually Madame Giry who answered the phone,” my son added.

I couldn’t help but smirk slightly when I learned that she was staying at Nadir’s home with him rather than in a hotel for her visit to London, but I vouched to keep that to myself for the moment. “When she worked as the ballet instructor at the Populaire, she ran things like a military officer. I’m not shocked that she was already awake,” I attempted to explain, though I knew he would never understand just how frightening that woman could be. “I remember a time when just the tap of her walking stick could make a room fall silent.”

”No wonder she and Uncle Nadir get along so well. I think she still scared the life out of him when she yelled at him to get up, though,” Gustave said.

I didn’t even look up from my paper; I simply shrugged and said, “He deserves it.”

“What did he do to deserve it this time?”

“His existence makes him deserve these things. We’re friends. I’m allowed to tease him like that.”

“You two are ridiculous.” I could practically feel his eyes roll as he spoke.

“We know. It keeps us young,” I replied, the same cocky grin he had been giving me plastered on my own face.

I finished the article I had been reading, only to look up and see my son in his full suit properly for the first time. He looked much too grown-up for my liking. It truly hit me that he was a man; he was getting married and was going to move out. Thankfully, though, some things never changed; it seemed that he still had no idea what a hairbrush was, nor did he know how to tie his own tie. “You look very dapper, my boy. Your tie is crooked, as always, but still very handsome.”

“Well, I never really figured out how to tie one,” he said as he started fiddling with it again.

Seeing how helpless he was, I quickly went over and fixed it for him. I also took that opportunity to fix his mess of hair as best I could. I remembered when I had to do the same thing on his first day of school. One would think he would have figured it out by this point; I suppose not, though I couldn’t really complain. I was grateful for the fact that he still needed me.

“You know I showed you as a child. It’s your fault that you never retained it. But now you’ll have your wife to help you. It’s also going to be her job to make sure your hair doesn’t look like a rat’s nest. I swear, it’s like the hairbrush is coated in acid and you’re afraid of getting burned,” I said with a laugh.

“I actually did fix it up a bit before coming down, thank you very much.” I raised my eyebrow at him, and he immediately caught on to the fact that just because he was getting married did not give him an excuse to talk to me however he pleased. “I’m sorry, Papa. I just want everything to be perfect.”

“And it will be,” I said as I finished fixing his tie. “You are marrying your best friend surrounded by friends and family. Everything will be amazing.”

Our little moment was interrupted by the phone ringing in the other room. Gustave made a mad dash for it but I was quicker and made it to the receiver first to hear a panicked voice that I believed belonged to Jane coming through the other line. I heard a lot of commotion in the background but I got the gist of what she was calling me about. “Alright. I’ll be there in a moment, so just let Lara know. Don't worry,” I said as I set the receiver down.

I turned back to my son to see the panicked look on his face; he clearly knew I had been on the phone with someone at his sweetheart’s house and I could tell that a million different scenarios were running through his mind. “What’s happening?” he asked, a slight tone of panic in his voice.

“The skirt of Lara’s dress is about three inches too long. I’m going to get changed and run over to alter it for her,” I replied, already walking up the stairs to my room as I explained the situation.

I heard him breathe a sigh of relief before he said, “Okay. As long as you’re handling it.”

“Don't panic, it’s a simple fix.” I wanted to try to reassure him that it was nothing but a simple hiccup and that everything was going to work out. “You’d be surprised how many times I’ve done something similar to this; I'll be there and back before you know it. You can make sure the boys get here so we can start getting ready.”

“I can do that.” There was panic rising in his voice, but of course, there was. Right after I told him not to panic, that was the first thing he did. My son, indeed.

“Gustave, I said _don't_ panic,” I sighed.

“We both know it’s too late for that,” he said as he walked back over to the telephone.

A second later, the doorbell rang. I saw the silhouette of only one person when I looked down from the top of the stairs, but I was already supposed to be up in my room getting dressed. “Go let them in!” I shouted downstairs as I made it to my room. Thankfully I had already laid my clothes out the night before so there was less work in getting it all put together. “It’s probably Nadir because we both know your friends do not move that fast in the morning. I’m getting changed, I can’t do it.”

“I’m already getting the door,” Gustave yelled back up to me.

After quickly getting changed and fixing my hairpiece, I went back downstairs to find Nadir in a sharp suit, though Adele was nowhere in sight; I could only guess that she would join him later on. I quickly stepped past him and got my shoes on, getting ready to head out the door.

“Alright, I’ve changed. Thoughts on the charcoal grey? I’m really playing with lighter colours,” I said with a chuckle.

Nadir clapped and laughed at the same time and I could tell he wanted to make fun of me so badly. Gustave was in the other room calling his friends, and I could hear him scolding Anthony for going back to sleep, but he still managed to respond to me: “As long as it’s not black. This is my wedding, not my funeral!”

“It’s not, I listened to you. Believe it or not, I can follow simple instructions.”

“I never said you couldn’t!” he yelled back in between dialling the next person on his list. “And for that, I am grateful.”

I took that opportunity to turn to Nadir to fill him in on what was happening. “Okay, I need you to make sure he doesn’t have a heart attack while I’m gone. I’ll be back.”

“Where are you off to?” he inquired. There was a puzzled look on his face, seeing as I hadn’t briefed him on everything that had happened over the course of the morning.

“Lara’s dress is still too long. The seamstresses made a mistake,” I said while I tried to be as quick as possible as I pulled my coat on. “Jane called me in a panic. I’m on my way to alter it at least slightly for her.”

Gustave had come back to join us and he looked jittery, to say the least, but Nadir beat me to the punchline that I had in mind as he said, “Be quick. I think he may spontaneously combust.”

“I know, I’m going, I’m going.” I quickly said my goodbyes and made one last attempt to calm my son down, then turned back to Nadir, demanding that he explain everything that happened in Switzerland when I got back. As I made my way to Lara’s house, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was forgetting something, but I didn’t have time to sit and stew on it; I had to keep moving.

* * *

When I arrived at the house, a sweet-looking maid opened the door. She seemed to know who I was, but I couldn’t recall having ever met her. Regardless of all that, she led me towards where the ladies were getting ready. As we made our way there, we ran into Philippe, who looked almost as frantic as Gustave.

“Philippe, are you alright? You look like you’re about to pass out,” I said with a slight frown.

That seemed to snap him out of whatever trance he had been in to acknowledge me: “Oh, thank you, Erik, for coming so quickly. We have a member of the staff that is capable of fixing the dress, but Lara was adamant that she only wanted you to do it.”

“Of course I came. Jane told me that I was needed,” I replied, trying to affirm that it was not too much trouble for me to come. “I suppose Lara knows that I have done similar things before during my time in Paris and on Coney Island, so she knows I can do it.”

“That must be it,” Philippe said. He clearly was trying to put the pieces of my past together in his head, but it was obvious to me that some of them just weren’t clicking for him. “Nevertheless, you’re here and you can fix it.”

“Just take me to her and I should have it done in about a half-hour, depending on how many layers of the skirt there are.” I figured that the time approximation would help calm his nerves and it appeared that I was at least somewhat right, though he was still fiddling with his hands as he led me the rest of the way to the sitting room where the ladies were waiting for me.

“Hello, ladies. I’m Erik, Gustave’s father. May I get your names?” I asked them all.

“Well, I would hope you know who we are,” a familiar voice said from one side of the room. I looked over to the familiar sight of Jane and two other young girls, Peggy and Natasha. Those three girls had known Gustave since he and William started high school and their entire group, along with Lara and three of my son’s groomsmen - Anthony, Stephen and Bruce - had been joined at the hip ever since. I had seen them all grow up, had hosted them all for dinner more times than I could count, and had witnessed little romances blossom within the group; Gustave and Lara, Jane and William, of course, but Peggy and Anthony had been courting since before the war, and he had mentioned the idea of proposing to her once or twice. Natasha and Stephen were a more complicated story when it came to their romance; for the longest time, Natasha had refused to give in to his feelings for her, but once he had returned from his military service, she had practically tackled him at the train station to kiss him. Sure, she had slapped him after for not returning sooner, but they were happily courting and working towards a marriage of their own. With all of their history, I should have guessed that Lara would ask those girls to be in the wedding party.

“Yes, yes, Peggy, of course I know I’ve met you three,” I said as I gave her a look that was meant to imply that I wasn’t talking about them. I then gestured to the other young woman in the room, seeing as I had never met her before. “But you, my dear, are new.”

I was quickly told that her name was Amelia, Lara’s other bridesmaid. I might have heard things about her from Lara while we were planning, given that she was one of her many cousins, but couldn’t be quite sure.

Once introductions were finally over, I was able to turn my focus to the reason I was here; my soon-to-be daughter-in-law.

“Lara, you look beautiful.” I simply had to say it because it was resoundingly true. The dress fit her body like a glove and the off-shoulder neckline was perfect for the necklace that I had given her. The sleeves kept things traditional and modern, seeing as they were of a three-quarter length. The lace of the gown was absolutely perfect and the skirt was neither too big nor too small in terms of volume. I dare say I couldn’t have done better myself, though at least I would have double-checked the hem measurements before cutting the material.

“Thank you,” she said smiling wide, though the panic returned within moments as she remembered her predicament. “I just wish those cursed people at the boutique knew how to follow through with a length requirement. Erik, please tell me you can fix it.”

I quickly fished a handkerchief out of my jacket and gave it to her before the tears could fall down her face. “Okay, no crying. I can tell that makeup took much too long to do for tears to ruin it now,” I said with a slight laugh.

“You’re right,” she said as she carefully dabbed the cloth near her eyes.

“Now, you are much shorter than me, even in your high heels, so I need you to stand on something so I can quickly hem the skirt, at least for now,” I said as I scanned the room for something that could serve the purpose. “Is it alright if you stand on the coffee table?”

“It’s fine,” said Marguerite. I couldn’t lie, I hadn’t noticed her in the room, so when she spoke, it was rather unsettling.

“I may need some help getting up,” Lara said as she tried to figure out if she could do it herself, but I did not want to risk the possibility of her tripping on the skirt and getting hurt. So, without hesitation, I lifted her - bridal style, ironically enough - and placed her on the table.

“There. Now I’ll just grab-” I began as I felt around in my suit jacket, only to be shocked to realize that I had forgotten my small sewing kit. That was why I felt like I was forgetting something; I could practically see it sitting there on my dresser. “I need a needle and thread, please.”

“I’m on it,” I heard a voice that I believed belonged to Peggy say as she ran off.

My attention returned to Lara, who appeared to be getting teary-eyed again. I quickly stood up and dabbed away her tears myself. “What did I say about crying?” I said, trying my best to give her a comforting smile. “This is all going to be fine, Lara. Like I told Gustave, you’re marrying your best friend. This is just a little hiccup that we can take care of. All will be well. If anything, you are only allowed to shed happy tears, alright?”

Lara nodded and genuinely smiled at me; I think I may have actually gotten through to her. It seemed I had better luck with her than with my own son.

Less than a second later, Peggy ran back into the room with a needle, a small pair of scissors and a spool of white thread. “Thank you, darling. Let’s get to work, shall we?” I asked.

“Thank you so much,” I heard Lara whisper to me as I knelt to begin my work. I hoped she knew that I would have come in a heartbeat if I could; she was my family and there were few things I wouldn’t do for my family.

Just as I had predicted, the alteration took no more than a half-hour. The dress now stayed just above the ground so that Lara wouldn’t trip on it as she walked down the aisle in a few hours. I then decided it was worth making sure that the bridesmaids’ dresses were all properly tailored. Thankfully, though, the boutique wasn’t completely ignorant and the other girls seemed to be alright.

I was just putting away my sewing supplies when I heard Lara curse from the other room. My heart stopped when I heard it; something bad must have happened if she, of all people, was cursing. Even her word of choice was one that I could never have imagined coming out of her; a small part of me was impressed. I quickly bolted to where she was and saw why she was so upset - she was looking out the window at the rain that had started to fall.

“Erik, can you fix it?” she asked, looking at me with such hope in her eyes that I wished it were possible for me to fix the issue at hand.

“Well, my dear, I’m afraid I’m not God, so I cannot control the weather, no. It’ll lighten up in a moment, I’m sure. If not now, then certainly before the reception. All is well,” I replied, only to realize that I had made the decision of walking and I was already in my suit for the wedding. “Is there an umbrella I could borrow for the time being, though?”

* * *

I made it home just as the rain was beginning to weaken; there were certain sections of the sky where I could see sunlight poking through. I could only hope that the development had calmed Lara’s nerves. As I walked into the house, I announced my presence and my success all in one go: “Dress is fixed _and_ the rain is letting up! Everything is fine!”

Instead of being greeted with “hello”, “welcome back” or “thank goodness you were able to fix it,” I was met with my son running at me with a pin and a flower. “Put this on, Papa!”

“Stabbing the father of the groom probably isn’t smart, Gustave,” I heard Stephen say. He could clearly see, just as I could, that my son was having no luck with the boutonnière and was about to stain my white shirt red if he kept going.

“Thank you, Stephen. I’d have to agree,” I said before I quickly took the pin from Gustave and, within seconds, had it on my lapel. “You know, I still believe roses to be a more traditional flower for a wedding.”

“Didn’t Lara tell you why she chose tiger lilies, Papa?” Gustave inquired as he looked in the mirror to fix his own boutonnière.

“All she told me was that she really wanted them.” I was actually quite confused; I hadn’t been informed that there was a reason behind the flower besides the fact that Lara loved them and that there was a less stark contrast between them and her white dress.

“Well, Lara had recently read a book explaining that flowers have different meanings,” he began as he walked back over to me, “and she saw that tiger lilies are symbolic of pride and positivity. She explained to me that she wanted something that showed how proud we were of how we had found a way to stay together, as well as to show our outlook on the life ahead of us.”

I was taken aback, realizing how foolish it had been for me to argue with her about that topic when we had been planning the wedding. “That’s a wonderful sentiment.”

“Now you know why she was being so stubborn when you tried to debate her on this.”

“I’ll make sure not to question her anymore.”

“Probably in the best interest of your health,” Gustave remarked with a smile on his face.

I had barely had enough time to say hello to all the other boys when I was yanked hard by Nadir into the dining room.

“Madeleine gave this to me a while ago and told me not to open it until today. It’s a best man speech,” he said. He was speaking in hushed tones and I had no idea why, but the prospect of Maddie helping Nadir write a speech was something that entertained me, to say the least.

I couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of it all. “She had to write it for you? Oh, Daroga, that won’t do,” I replied.

My witty remark was swiftly greeted by a hard smack on my arm, which I did not appreciate in the slightest. “No, you prick."

"Oh, you've spent too much time in London. You're using their slang." I still didn’t understand why he was being so serious about the whole thing. Though I would have made fun of him if he had actually needed Maddie’s help to write his speech, I wouldn’t have held it against him; I’d never really known Nadir to be the best with sentimental words. Even still, what he said next pushed it all into perspective.

"This isn’t a joke, Erik. William wrote it.”

My heart dropped to the bottom of my chest. “When?” I breathed.

“Before he was deployed. Apparently, Gustave had talked to him about proposing before they left for the war,” Nadir tried to explain, but it seemed that he was trying to say too much at once. He had to take a moment to redirect his train of thought before huffing and continuing: “Damn it, Erik, Madeleine was almost in tears when she gave me this envelope before I left for Switzerland and I had no idea why until now.”

For a minute that felt like an eternity, I did not know what to say. Our William had a whole speech prepared, knowing that Lara and Gustave would have ended up together. Eventually, there was only one thing I could think of asking: “You’re going to read it at the reception, then?”

“I don't know if I can do that to Gustave,” Nadir said as he looked down at the envelope. I could tell that the decision was weighing down on him like a dumbbell on his shoulders. “This is supposed to be the happiest day of his life. Is it fair to him that I should bring up such a painful memory?”

“While I understand your concern, he wants William to be involved so desperately; he is insisting that a photograph of him be present at the ceremony. And William wrote this with the intention of it being heard.” I was trying to rationalize the entire thing for Nadir, but a part of me needed to hear it as well. “As a writer, I understand that completely. He may not be able to present it himself, but we should grant the boy one last wish and let Gustave hear these words from the heart of his best friend.”

Nadir nodded, realizing that I had made a point, and carefully tucked the speech back into his breast pocket. “I won’t say my own speech then. It won’t mean nearly as much after this.”

I patted him on the shoulder. “I’m sure he’d appreciate your speech, but we should give William the last word, I feel.”

“Yes. Let him have that sense of satisfaction.”

“We might want to keep this a secret until the reception,” I pointed out just before I remembered that I had so many questions for him. “Something I don’t want you to keep a secret, though, is what happened in Switzerland.”

A deep sigh left him before he responded to me: “I was hoping that you’d forget to ask.”

“You knew there was no chance of that ever happening,” I scoffed.

“I know. But a man can dream can’t he?” he began, hoping that he would be able to change the subject, but I immediately shot down that idea with a look that said it all. “Alright, alright. My time in Switzerland was very nice, actually. At first, it was a bit awkward to sit there and talk face to face instead of through letters, but eventually, we adjusted. I think we got to know each other on a more personal level than we would have been able to do if we had only kept sending letters. I believe I have grown to care for Adele very much and our visit only confirmed that for me.”

“That’s a very sweet sentiment, Daroga,” I said. I knew it probably came off as sarcastic, but I was trying to be as sincere as possible. “But I was hoping for more of the fun details. Like something along the lines of the fact that she is staying with you rather than going to a hotel.”

I saw the tips of his ears go pink and I just had to know more. “I was really hoping that Gustave wouldn’t tell you about that,” he said.

“Well, too bad, he did. Now explain yourself.”

“Nothing has happened if that’s what you’re wondering.” He was being reasonable by starting with that fact before continuing: “I simply offered my spare room to her so that she didn’t have to pay for a hotel. She is my guest, after all. I wasn’t going to ask her to come to a wedding for a boy she hadn’t seen in ten years and make her pay for a hotel. It just made more sense.”

I was about to continue with my interrogation, given that the colour of his cheeks did not correspond with the presumed innocence of his story, but we were called back into the living room by Anthony, who appeared to have poured everyone a drink. “Erik, Nadir, come back here for the toast!”

We were both given glasses and I gave it a quick sniff to try and determine what type of liquid it was. It took no time to figure out that it was cider; Anthony must have brought it knowing that Gustave was uncomfortable with alcohol. My boy really did have some good friends.

“To Gustave! The first one to marry a lovely lady. I hope you know what you’re doing, my friend,” Anthony said as he raised his glass. We all followed his example and downed our drinks, following that with applause.

When that was done, I put my glass back on the table, then walked over to Gustave and hugged him before realizing the time. Somehow, the clock had struck half-past noon and we were expected at the church shortly.

“Shall we get to the church and get ourselves set up, gentlemen? You wouldn’t want the bride to beat you there and be waiting for you, would you, Gustave?” I asked. The groomsmen all began to make their way out the door then, but I called my son aside for a moment. Nadir gave us a look that told me that I should make sure I kept things brief. I nodded to him and made sure he left before I continued.

“I have a little something for you,” I said as I took the gold chain off my neck and put it on him. The little ring that it held was far too small for either of us, so putting it on a chain made the most sense.

He seemed to have recognized it instantly and he looked at me with such confusion as to how it had come into my possession. “Papa, this is Mother’s wedding band. How do you have it?” he asked.

“I've had it for years, actually,” I admitted as I watched him run his thumb over the little piece of jewelry. “I kept it when I replaced it with my pinky ring at the funeral. It felt wrong to just put it in a box and out of sight, so I put it on a chain and wore it around my neck, over my heart. It was a piece of your mother that I would always have with me.”

The puzzled look on his face persisted despite my explanation. “Why are you giving it to me, though?” he queried.

“Lara has a piece of your mother with her today, _soldatino_. It’s only fair that you should have one too.”

* * *

The ceremony was being held in a small church that stood in between both our house and Lara’s. Although neither Gustave nor I was religious, it had meant a great deal to the bride to have the ceremony done in a church, so we had happily obliged her in that respect.

When we arrived, everything was set up in terms of decor, which was a relief, to say the least. The groomsmen waited in the front entry for the ladies to arrive, but I decided that it would be best for me to take Gustave inside and get him into position at the altar.

As we walked inside the main chapel, chills ran up my spine. The last time I had been in a church was when Gustave and I had stopped off in the town where I was born. Though there were some good memories tied into buildings like the one we stood in at that moment, religion and I had never truly gotten along.

When we made it to the altar, I was able to make sure he was standing where he was supposed to and I also got a chance to fix his hair one last time. His hair was another thing that reminded me of Christine; one was never sure what it was going to do next.

“Now. I want you to stand here and do not move. Just...stay in your place,” I instructed him, hoping he would listen to me for once.

A look of confusion washed over him; it seemed that he could not possibly comprehend why he had to stay in one spot for so long. “But what if there’s a problem?” he asked.

“I will handle it. Just don't move.” I was actually able to pacify him with that before I went to take my seat in the front row. Maddie had beaten me to it, but it was only a matter of about thirty seconds of peace before an usher approached us with some dangerous words.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry to tell you this but you can’t sit here. This row is only for immediate family,” he said, and something in my head snapped immediately. Of course this was happening; he must have been told by someone that I was the one family member attending for Gustave. A fact when discussing bloodlines, certainly, but completely and utterly false when Maddie was in the equation.

“Now hang on a moment. First off, please don't call me ma’am. Besides that, though, I am certainly family!” Maddie retorted. She was getting angry, and if there was one thing I knew about her, it was that she didn’t get angry often, so when she did, it was safest to just move out of the way. I looked over to Gustave to see that he was about to rush over to try and sort things out, but I quickly shot him a glare that told him to stay exactly where he was.

“What is your relation?” asked that poor unfortunate soul of an usher. He was just trying to do his job but was in way over his head; I could tell by the look on my friend’s face that if someone didn’t step in soon, there was going to be a funeral after the wedding.

“My relation is-”

Without a second thought, I ran with the first idea that came to mind; I came up from behind and grabbed her hand before telling the usher, “She is my wife. The mother of the groom.”

The look of confusion on Maddie’s face was warranted, I will admit, but she seemed to catch on to what I was trying to get away with. She quickly looped her arm through mine and I made sure that my left hand with the gold wedding band was in the usher’s line of sight the whole time. “Yes, this is my husband. Our son, Gustave, is getting married today,” she said.

“Yes, so you see, my wife belongs in this row with me,” I added.

“Your what?” a familiar voice called out to me from behind and my head dropped. Of course Charles had to show up at that precise moment.

I turned back to him, showed him my wedding band and tried to get him on board with the lie. “My wife, Madeleine.”

It seemed that I would have no such luck. “Wait a minute, someone-”

“Just go make sure Lizzie is okay,” I said through gritted teeth. What was there not to understand about the situation at hand? All I needed him to do was walk away and he just would not take the hint.

“Is something wrong here? People seem confused about this,” the usher remarked. I was sure that, by that point, he was confused out of his mind and wanted the conversation to be over just as much as we did.

“Oh, he’s already had a little bit to drink today,” I tried whispering in an effort to make it seem like it was something that should be kept between us so that Charles didn’t come off as a drunk to every member of Lara’s family. “Just ignore him.”

Unfortunately, Charles just couldn’t keep his godforsaken mouth shut. “I’m sorry, what?” he asked with a frown.

“Just go check on Lizzie,” I said, keeping my voice low. I was trying desperately not to curse inside a church, but my restraint was beginning to fail me.

“Okay, fine, fine.” Charles put his hands up in surrender and I was finally able to take a solid breath as he walked away.

I turned back to the usher and wrapped my arm around Maddie’s shoulders to hold her close, trying to sell the lie in any way, shape, or form. “Anyhow. Now that he's settled, there is no issue here and my wife and I will be taking our seats now.” I really needed him to leave and for the entire issue to be all settled and done with. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Gustave looking at me with a similar confused expression to the one that Charles had given me just moments ago. I tried to give him a look that told him that I would explain later, but my message seemed to have been lost in translation.

“Come on, my dear, let’s get comfortable for the ceremony,” I added, and just to put yet another nail in my coffin, I kissed the top of her head.

“Yes, please do. My mistake, sir.” I could tell that the usher barely bought a word of our little charade, but it at least got rid of him without Maddie having to kill him.

“Well, that was interesting. But it was nice being married to you for five minutes,” Madeleine said as she shook my arm off of her shoulder and burst out laughing immediately; I could tell that she had been holding it in for a while.

I couldn’t help but join in her laughter as we sat down. “Truly the most interesting five minutes of my life,” I replied.

Charles took that moment as an opportunity to rejoin us, little Lizzie in tow, looking absolutely adorable in her flower girl dress. However, instead of sitting with us, she ran right up to Gustave, who proceeded to pick her up and begin a full conversation.

“Okay, can someone explain to me what just happened? When did you two get married? Madeleine, when did we get divorced?!” Charles exclaimed.

“You signed the papers in your sleep. It’s a shame that you slept through the ceremony, it was beautiful. Gustave cried,” I said. I figured it would be more fun to keep messing around with our little lie. Given how Maddie had gotten on board with it so quickly, it was no surprise to me that she jumped on board with our backstory as well. “You have to understand something, Charles; Maddie and I are more than just friends. You’ve just been too oblivious to notice.”

“Truly, I’m surprised it took you that long to notice,” Madeleine added. She and I must have been sharing one brain at that moment because the entire scenario was playing out perfectly. “Yes, it really was lovely, Charles. It’s a shame that you missed it.”

Charles must have realized that he wasn’t going to get anywhere with the two of us so he simply gave a shrug of defeat. “Well, maybe I’ll get an explanation later on,” he said.

“Maybe you will, maybe you won’t. In any case, though, you can have your wife back now,” I said as I gestured towards Maddie, who was still giggling at the ridiculousness of the whole scenario.

“I would greatly appreciate that. It would be an awkward conversation with Lizzie,” Charles pointed out.

Realizing how uncomfortable a conversation like that would be with someone of Lizzie’s age, I couldn’t help but agree: “Yes, it really would be. We don't need that to happen.”

“We really don't. But I will admit, the look on that usher’s face was worth every second,” Maddie said as she gestured towards the poor unfortunate soul who had to witness all of that.

“Oh, it was. And who knew that we would pass as a married couple so well?” I said as I thought back on how seamlessly our story got put together. “You caught on so quickly to the little coverup, unlike some people,” I quickly added, making it quite clear that I was talking about her actual husband.

“I thought that you were going to blow it for us all, Charles,” Maddie said, clearly agreeing with me. “I didn’t think we had it in us to pull off that type of improvisation.”

“No, neither did I. I thought I lost it for a moment when I showed him my ring.” I made a point of fiddling with it as I spoke. “He looked so confused, as if he didn't know that married people have rings.”

“I’m surprised you still carry your father’s ring with you. I suppose it did save us at that moment, though,” Maddie said. I was confused for a moment; I had almost forgotten that I told her that the ring had belonged to my father.

“As I’ve told you, I do it to conform to at least one aspect of social constructs; I suppose it did assist us with selling the story. And honestly, I’ve gotten used to having it on my finger.” The ring had become a comforting object for me over the years, it seemed. It had also truly saved Gustave and me socially, at least giving off the illusion that I was a widower who just never remarried. It saved us both from having to tell people the truth. “It is a piece of a parent I never knew and have no reason to be upset with. Not to mention that it gives me something to fidget with when I’m nervous.”

“It’s mostly for the fidgeting,” I heard Nadir say, and I turned to watch him walk over to us with a wide smile spread across his face, which I thought was a result of watching the whole interaction with the usher. I was quickly proven wrong, however, when a woman walked up to him and kissed him on the cheek before taking his arm. It took me a moment to realize that it was Madame Giry; I wasn’t used to seeing her in something other than black. She was in a lovely plum dress that kept true to her conservative style. Even though it wasn’t actually that cold outside, she kept her high collar and sleeves. Her hair was in its usual tight updo and she wore simple jewelry. She looked quite nice in her pop of colour.

“Dear god, Madame, I almost didn’t recognize you,” I said as I got to my feet to greet her. “You look lovely. It is nice to see that both of us are capable of dressing like we aren’t about to attend a funeral.”

“Erik, please. We’ve known each other for so long, you can call me Adele,” she said with a smile.

I thought about it for a moment, but I realized that that was the first time I had ever seen her speak with a smile on her face. She and Nadir really did seem to make each other happy.

“I will continue to call you Madame _because_ we’ve known each other for so long. You know I’m a creature of habit,” I replied.

“Fair point,” she said before turning to Nadir. “You’re right, nothing really has changed.”

“Well, sorry to intrude, but something has definitely changed,” Carles said, being the one who had the courage to vocalize what he and Maddie were both thinking; the latter was too preoccupied with her jaw being on the floor from shock. “Nadir, would you care to introduce us to your friend?”

“I thought I told you,” I said. I could have sworn I had told them both about the fact that Nadir was bringing a date.

Maddie proceeded to smack me on my arm, which gave me my answer; I clearly hadn’t told them. “I think I would remember you telling me that Nadir was bringing someone,” she retorted.

Madame Giry laughed at how Maddie had scolded me. “I think you and I will get along wonderfully. My name is Adele Giry. I’ve known both Erik and Nadir for a very long time.”

“I think the words ‘long time’ is an understatement. I think it would be about thirty years now.” Nadir said. I could see the gears turning in his head as he tried to do the math; he might have been slower than me, but he still managed to be right with his estimation.

“Well regardless, it’s lovely to meet you. I am Madeleine and this is my husband Charles,” Maddie said as she reached out her hand and offered it to Adele to shake.

Nadir took that as a prime opportunity to bring back what had happened moments ago. “Oh really? Judging by what I saw, I thought Erik was your husband.”

“You really heard all of that? Did you enjoy our little performance?” I asked Nadir.

“Oh, it was better than some of the theatre I’ve paid to see,” he responded as he tried to hold back laughter.

“You truly came out of your shell as an actor. Some of your best work,” Adele said, following the train of mockery.

“Now I remember why I never associated with the two of you at the same time,” I pointed out, knowing that that level of mockery was only the base of what was bound to come later. “Well, Maddie, we are a talented pair who play a good married couple, it seems. I was worried I was pushing it when I kissed the top of your head, but I suppose not.”

“By the way, you’re not allowed to do that again. It felt sort of strange getting physical affection from you,” Maddie teased. I truly could not escape being made fun of.

“Right, I’ll keep that in mind. I’m sorry,” I replied.

She kept laughing even though I genuinely felt like I had overstepped my boundaries. “Oh, don't worry about it. It was the spur of the moment, and it truly brought it home.”

“Good, good. I’ll just remember that, outside of pretending to be your husband, no more kisses because it’s that strange for me to give you affection like that.”

It was then and there that I felt a small person tugging at my pant leg. Looking down, I saw that it was none other than Lizzie, who appeared to be asking me to pick her up. Needless to say, I obliged her request; it was easier for me to pick her up than it was for me to bend down to hear her.

“Hello princess. What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be with Lara getting ready?” I asked.

A nod of her head was the response I got. “I wanted to see the new lady,” she replied.

“Oh, I see,” I said as I glanced over at Nadir and Madame Giry. That definitely would have been a new sight for her. “Well, why don’t you introduce yourself like the little lady you are and maybe you’ll find out?”

I put her back down, carefully making sure that the tulle of her dress was in order, and once she was ready, she toddled over to Adele, who was already watching her intently. She was probably partially amazed by the fact that Lizzie was so comfortable around me. In all the years that Madame Giry and I had known one another, I don’t believe she had ever seen me interact with a small child like my goddaughter.

Walking up to Adele, Lizzie gently tugged on her skirt to get her attention, although she really didn’t need to.

“Hello there. Who might you be?” Madame Giry asked as she knelt to the little girl’s level.

Lizzie looked back at her parents and me before shyly saying, “I’m Elizabeth.”

“That’s a beautiful name. My name is Adele.” The smile on her face was quite fun to see; I imagine there was still some maternal instinct in her to the point where she knew what to do.

“Why are you holding Uncle Nadie’s hand?” Lizzie inquired. I couldn’t hold in the little chuckle I had in me when I heard the nickname that the girl had bestowed upon Nadir. He told me that he hated it but I knew there was a part of him that adored it. I could tell that Adele was trying her best not to laugh as well but my friend, on the other hand, looked like he was cursing every god he knew over the fact that his lady friend had been made aware of that nickname.

It took Adele a moment to try and put her answer in language that Lizzie would understand, but eventually, she said, “Well, your mother and father love each other and they hold hands. It’s like that with me and your uncle.”

“Oh, okay. I like your dress, Adele,” Lizzie said with a smile. I adored how quickly she had accepted that answer; it seemed to make perfect sense to her that her Uncle Nadir had fallen in love.

There was a small bit of laughter from Adele and it was probably for the same reason I wanted to laugh. “Thank you, Elizabeth. Purple is my favourite colour. What’s yours?”

“I like purple too.” Lizzie was slowly gravitating more and more towards her the more they kept talking, and it was actually quite refreshing to see. I didn’t know how long it had been since Madame Giry had a chance to talk to a child like my goddaughter, but it was easy to tell from her face that she had missed it.

“That’s amazing. Are you excited for dinner when all of the dancing happens?” Adele asked.

Instead of responding verbally, Lizzie gave a small nod, and it looked like she was about to ask another question when Jane came towards us.

“Hello, I’m sorry to interrupt but I have to steal Lizzie now,” she said. When she arrived, Lizzie seemed to get very excited; her role as flower girl was very important to her. She said goodbye to everyone, Madame Giry included, before she took Jane’s hand as they walked away.

“She is absolutely precious,” Adele said as soon as the little girl was gone, standing and turning to her new beau. “And you didn’t tell me that Erik actually bonded with a child, Nadie.”

“Believe it or not, although I look like a gargoyle, I have emotions,” I protested. The mockery was getting out of hand and I was determined to defend myself. Even still, at least I wasn’t the only one she had targeted with her remark; she had also brought Nadir’s newfound nickname into things.

“I have a feeling that name is going to stick,” my friend said with a sigh.

“It’s already stuck,” Adele replied, kissing his cheek.

“Let’s go back to making fun of Erik, shall we? That is both an easy and fun pastime.” Nadir was clearly desperate to make sure that nobody dwelled upon the fact that Adele had just kissed his cheek for the second time. “Nobody ever said that you didn’t have emotions, my friend. It’s just strange for you to use them.”

“Oh, stop it. This is why I don’t like talking to you,” I said with a roll of my eyes.

“Since when has that stopped me before?” I rolled my eyes, hating the fact that he had a solid argument.

“It should stop you. It’s going to get you in trouble sometime when you hear a conversation you don't want to hear.” I thought of bringing up some of his time adjusting to Paris all those years ago. To put it simply, he was not the type of person to enjoy winter. I also had some especially fun stories from when he would visit me beneath the Opera House.

He raised an eyebrow at me and I remembered how much dirt he had on me, along with the fact that I might not even remember. “You’re one to talk.” 

“If you reference one moment from Persia right now, I might hurt you,” I threatened, but he gave me a look that told me that he was ready, willing and able to destroy me at a moment's notice.

“I might have some fun with that, actually,” he said.

“Be nice, Nadir, or I could share some stories about you,” Adele said, trying to make sure he didn’t embarrass me.

“I hope you still do,” Charles piped up. He and I had the same idea, considering that, at the mention of the stories, Nadir turned a shade of red that I didn’t think was possible for someone of his complexion.

After Adele got a good laugh in, Nadir retracted his earlier statement: “Alright. I’ll hold onto that for now.”

“An intelligent decision. I’m impressed,” I said with a smirk, pleased that it was finally my turn to have the one-liners.

“Oh, as if you can talk about making good decisions.” Once again, I hated the fact that he had a valid argument in that statement.

“You know he has a point, Erik,” Adele said, immediately backing him up.

“I made a good decision today,” I remarked in an attempt to defend myself. “I kept Maddie from committing murder. Though she probably would have done it quite efficiently. Maybe better than me.”

Maddie looked confused and concerned at the same time and I realized I had misspoken. “Erik, what do you-” she began to say.

“I mean better than I think I could do because I have not committed murder before. I am a child of God, obviously,” I stuttered, but I knew I had overdone it the moment the words left my mouth.

Nadir looked completely baffled by my statement and I knew he was going to have some fun with it, regardless of whether or not Madame Giry told him to be nice. “You, of all people, could not be further from a child of God,” he replied.

“Just because I abandoned him doesn’t make me any less his child.” I was too far down the rabbit hole to start trying to climb out so I figured that it was safer to just keep going with it, no matter how ridiculous it was to do so. 

“Alright, sure,” he said, giving in to the fact that I did have a decent point there, only to immediately present a follow-up argument that was harder for me to crack: “But have you not committed a list of sins that the Bible outlines? Or am I wrong in thinking that?”

I couldn’t come up with a response, so I tried to get the topic to change instead: “That’s not something you need to get into.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble. Let’s see...extortion for one. Oh, theft is a big one. Isn’t there a passage about honouring your mother and father? If there is, you've fallen short, but you get a bit of slack for that considering your situation. What else...now, hang on.” He took a moment and he seemed to be trying to collect his thoughts. In all honesty, I was impressed with how much he knew of the Bible, considering he had never read it, to my knowledge. “For lack of a better term, isn’t Gustave a ‘sin’?”

We were all truly shocked by the bluntness of his statement, and he was given a well deserved, albeit light, tap from Madame Giry. “That’s a lovely sentiment to be having while we are at his wedding. Honestly, Daroga! There’s a time and a place,” I pointed out to him while also gesturing to the fact that we were in a church and a priest was not too far away and was probably willing to throw me out if he heard all of that.

“I was making a list and it came to mind, what do you want from me?” he queried as he looked around at our group.

There was a sigh of complete exhaustion when he said that. I couldn’t help but think of the fact that that was what it must feel like to deal with me on a daily basis. “A little decorum would be nice. To think, you and I were a royal court at one point,” I scoffed.

“Yes, at one point. We are no longer there, are we?” he said with a very matter-of-fact tone. “And whose fault is it that we’re not there anymore?”

“We both know that that argument is irrelevant right now. I’ve already admitted that it’s my fault,” I said while trying to get things back on track. “I had hoped that some things we practiced there would not be so easily forgotten. Such as the fact that there is a time to say things and a time when we should keep them to ourselves.”

He raised his hands in surrender and quickly made sure with a simple look that I knew that the discussion wasn’t over; he wasn’t about to let me win an argument concerning my moral compass: “Alright, I’ll stop. We’ll finish that chat later because I know you won’t let me get over what I just said.”

“Definitely not.”

“Now, if the married couple could take a seat, the ceremony is due to begin soon,” Charles said as he noticed that everyone on Lara’s side of the family was quickly filing into their seats. Once again, I felt a pang of guilt at the fact that Gustave didn’t have as many people here as Lara did, but there was no time to dwell on that; he had the people that mattered most to him present and I knew that that meant everything to him.

“We are _not_ a married couple,” Nadir and I said in unison, which did nothing to help our cause.

Adele burst out laughing and I couldn’t blame her; Maddie and Charles had gotten used to the fact that there were times when Nadir and I shared a brain, but it was entirely new territory for her.

“My god, it seems that some things never truly change. You two still practically share a brain,” she said, echoing my thoughts perfectly.

Then to our dismay, Nadir and I proceeded to groan in unison as well, which, of course, prompted Charles to turn to his wife and say, “They’re so in sync. Why can’t we do that?”

“Because you’re a peasant,” I said without hesitation.

Nadir, on the other hand, decided to stay on topic: “When you’re around each other for as long as Erik and I have been, it’s almost inevitable, unfortunately.”

Even though I believe Charles heard what my friend had said, it was clear that he wasn’t really focused on it. Instead, he was looking between me and his wife with a baffled expression. “Wait. Can we circle back to when I was called a peasant?” he demanded.

“Well, you are,” Maddie quickly affirmed for him.

“She is not wrong in any capacity,” I said, backing her up in the same way that she had done for me earlier. She and I truly seemed to be on a roll in terms of being on the same page.

There were so many emotions on Charles’ face that it was hard to decipher through them all, but two that were dreadfully obvious, though, were shock and hurt. Maddie noticed that fact too and got up on her tiptoes - despite the fact that she was already wearing high heels - to kiss him on the temple before saying, “Don't worry, dear. I still love you.”

“Yes, yes, I love you too.” There was a slight eye roll that indicated to me that he had gotten used to being made fun of over the years.

I hadn’t even noticed it but Nadir had left to go join the rest of the groomsmen to get ready, so I figured that we needed to get to our seats as well. Madame Giry was about to go sit in a different section near the back, but I invited her to come and sit with us at the front. It didn’t make sense to me to have her sit so far back given that she was the guest of the best man. Maddie leaned over to me then and told me that I had better explain everything about Nadir and Adele or I wouldn't like how things ended for myself. It was one of those moments where my healthy fear of Maddie was reassured to be valid because I knew that she was capable of doing something to make me regret forgetting to tell her.

We all took our seats, being mindful of the fact that William’s picture was sitting just in between Maddie and Charles so that he was still present at the ceremony; I knew that the same photo would be coming with us to the reception to sit where the best man should be. I looked over at Gustave who was bouncing slightly in his place, clearly anxious for the ceremony to begin. 

His silent prayers were answered as the wedding march began to play.

I immediately looked back to the entrance of the chapel to see that the doors had opened and the procession was beginning. First down the aisle was little Lizzie with her basket of flower petals; she looked absolutely perfect in her peach-coloured dress and little white shoes. The second she began her little march, I felt Maddie and Charles tense up; I knew that they had been nervous for their daughter during the entire process, but it seemed that their anxiety wasn’t needed because she did a great job. I could tell that she had gotten a little nervous when everyone was staring at her, but I saw that she made eye contact with her mother and things seemed to work themselves out. She tossed her mixed petals on the ground and somehow managed to keep perfect time with the music.

Not far after her was one of Lara’s young cousins, who was playing the role of the ring bearer. He apparently treated Lara as his older sister, similar to how Lizzie looked at Gustave. I wasn’t exactly sure who he was, but he looked rather dashing in the little suit he was wearing. **  
  
**

The wedding party entered the chapel after that. Traditionally, the parents walked down the aisle before that point, but we had opted against it. Gustave had asked me at one point if I would be comfortable with doing something like that, and after a small argument and a bit of interrogation, we had decided that we wouldn’t be following that tradition. I would have done it, but I knew it would have been very embarrassing for me to walk down the aisle with my mask and have everyone staring at me. It probably wouldn’t have left a good impression with Lara’s family either.

The bridesmaids and groomsmen walked down the aisle in their little pairings; the men were in sharp black tuxedos that were very similar to Gustave’s, with flowers on their lapels identical to the one I had on my own, while the girls were in fairly simple offset gold dresses that had sweetheart necklines and full-length sleeves. Everything about their outfits was simple and elegant; their hair was in buns, and their jewelry consisted of pearl accents. Their small bouquets of tiger lilies went with the dresses perfectly, and now I knew better than to question Lara when she had something picked out. I could tell that everything was just like what she had wanted; she was never one for the overly flashy style.

The last of that group was the maid of honour and best man. Nadir looked like a tower next to Jane, although she was wearing the same silver kitten heels as the other girls. It truly made me realize just how short she actually was. Nadir, on the other hand, stood proud as he walked. I could tell that he took the opportunity to serve as Gustave’s best man as a great honour. When they all arrived at the altar where Gustave was still anxiously waiting, the music changed, and quite frankly, I could have done a much better transition if it were me doing the music.

We all stood up and looked to the back of the chapel as Lara and Philippe began their walk down the aisle. She looked absolutely stunning in her dress, and now that the skirt was the right length, it moved like a cloud with her. Now that her veil was on, I noticed that there were small lace details that connected the dress to it. Regardless though, both looked like they were made with nobody else in mind but her. I could tell by the look on Philippe’s face that he was barely holding it together; I was surprised he made it all the way to the altar without shedding a single tear. His willpower astounded me. When they made it to the front, Philippe kissed his daughter’s hand one last time before he gave her to Gustave, who was standing with his hand out for Lara to take.

Seeing the two of them together like that was something special, to say the least. There was so much love radiating off of them it was impossible to imagine that the lofty confines of the cathedral could contain it all. I watched the priest perform the religious aspect of the ceremony, but I wasn’t really taking it in. He was an elderly man who looked like he had been performing those ceremonies for the majority of his life. It wasn’t until it came to the vows that I actually started paying attention.

“I have been told that the bride and groom have prepared their own vows that they would like to share today.” My attention piqued at that just as the little boy came up and delivered the rings. I was particularly interested in the vows; I had heard bits and pieces from when Gustave had been rehearsing in his room, but he always shooed me away before I could hear the whole thing.

“Lara de Chagny, I remember the day that we first met,” Gustave began. “When I first saw the girl I could not forget. Every detail of that music room and that piano are as crystal clear to me now as they were all those years ago. You had this insatiable curiosity that I adore with all my heart. You make me feel like such an idiot sometimes compared to how smart you are and you should know that I love every second of it. The look in your eyes when you are trying to figure something out is something that I look forward to seeing every day for the rest of my life.” He then took the small golden band he held and carefully slipped it onto her finger. He told me that they had taken the rings to an engraver and put messages inside each, so I knew what was inside both of them; for Lara, there was a little image of the sun, along with a promise Gustave had made years ago.

“I made you a promise before I left for the war and that was that _je reviendrai toujours_ , which means that I will always come back. Though it’s not that I ever believe we will be parted again, I want to remind you that no matter where we are on this earth, I vow that I will always find my way back to you. With this ring today, I am making the promise that I will love you for the rest of my life. No matter what happens, you are the sun and the light of my life and without you, I remain in darkness. I need you in my life because I don’t know what I would do without you. Even though I cannot put everything I want to say into words right now, I swear to you that I will try and show you every single day of my life.”

Though she was teary-eyed and a bit choked up, Lara smiled and started to recite her own vows: “Gustave Destler, you have no idea how much you have changed my life for the better. You brought me a sense of confidence in myself that I didn’t know I needed until our lives collided. That day in the music room seems like it was only yesterday, but every moment since then has been like a dream. You make me laugh and you know when to push me to be the best version of myself. Did you know that you were one of the first people who encouraged me to want more out of life than what was expected of me? With the way you look at me, you have made it possible for me to believe that someone would actually love me for something that made me feel like an outsider for most of my life. Your asymmetrical smile is something that I not only look forward to seeing for the rest of our lives; it is something that I don’t think I can live without anymore.” I couldn’t lie, I had started to tear up. What they had was so special and it was on display for everyone to see at that moment.

Lara then took the silver band that had been made for Gustave and put it on his finger, which had an engraving of the moon, along with what Lara felt that he meant to her. “Gustave, I am told that some of the best dreams happen when you are awake, and if that is true, I believe that I am having the best dream ever. The best part is that it won’t matter if I wake up because I know that you will be there to help me through the night. With this ring, I not only give you my vow, but I give you my heart, my love and my life. I know you will keep them safe because you have been for years; you have become those things for me and so much more. There is nothing that you have to prove to me because I trust you beyond words and I don’t need a ring on my finger to prove that to me; I know that I will have a steady hand to hold and that you will walk beside me anyway the wind blows.”

They both looked back to the priest to show that they were ready for him to finish the ceremony. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride,” he said with a warm smile.

Gustave took that moment to lift the veil from Lara’s face and one could truly see how happy she was. Without any hesitation, Gustave pulled her close and kissed her, dipping her in the process. Everyone cheered and clapped and we could barely hear the priest through all the noise as he declared, “I now present to you for the first time, Mister and Mrs. Destler!”

The newlyweds walked back down the aisle, hand-in-hand, as the rest of the wedding party followed, I joined Philippe and Marguerite as the first ones to follow before the rest of the guests. It was nearly impossible to believe that after so long, it had actually happened.

My son got married.


	25. Now Go and Dance (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wedding reception part one of two!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updated 12-20-20

_**SEPTEMBER 1919** _

_**ERIK** _

Arriving at the park that served as the venue for the wedding only widened the smile on my face, if that was even possible for me. It had turned out beautiful; tents had been set up with tables for the guests, as well as the space to dance. Candelabras sat on each table and servers were rushing around to light them all just as we arrived. The lilies Lara had selected seemed to glow in the sunlight of the late afternoon, making it even more obvious that they had been the superior choice over roses. And, without a doubt, the off-white tablecloths that Gustave had laboured over choosing tied everything together; his efforts paid off, most definitely.

I stepped out of the carriage I had shared with Marguerite and Philippe as the parents of the bride and groom, offering my hand to the Comtesse as she stepped out after me. "Well, Philippe, we are officially in-laws now," I said as the Comte stepped out and let his wife take his arm. "I never thought I would say that concerning a Chagny, but I never thought I would be calling one my daughter-in-law, so I continue to be shocked."

"Yes, I would think so," Philippe replied with a laugh. "But still, I don't think we're going to turn into those in-laws that despise each other, even with your history with my family. Right? We seem to have become rather good friends over the years, at least to me."

"Yes, I would call us friends as well. I don't believe we'll turn into bitter in-laws now that we know each other as we do," I said. "You two can go ahead to our table. I'll meet you there."

Philippe gave me a nod and walked into the tent with the head table to sit down with his wife, leaving me to wait outside and greet guests as they arrived. Really, I was looking out for Nadir, but with him being the best man, I wasn't surprised that he hadn't arrived yet; he would have been needed to sign the marriage certificate and other documentation. In the end, though, I didn't need to wait for too long, as the carriages with the bridal party arrived shortly and Nadir stepped out with Adele on his arm, smiling all the while. I couldn't help but laugh to myself as I watched him wrangle the younger groomsmen before making his way towards the tent, smiling at me as he and Adele walked up. 

"I'm impressed that you manage to control those three lunatics. When they're set on making mischief, they do it well," I remarked.

"Yes, well, years as the Persian chief of police, as well as dealing with you, gave him plenty of practice," Adele said with a laugh.

"Indeed. You prepared me well, Erik," Nadir said, rolling his eyes as he turned to Adele and smiled at her. "It never ends."

"No, it certainly doesn't, but you are the one who stuck around with him, dear," she replied, smiling back at him. 

I couldn't help but smile along with them when I heard the term of endearment she had used to refer to my friend. Every interaction between the two of them that I was a witness to only made it more clear that Nadir had almost needed Adele in his life; having friends like myself or Maddie and Charles was one thing, but having the companionship of a woman that he cared about was completely different. I had always wished he would find someone to connect with in that way again, someone to ignite the same joy he had felt when Rookheya was alive, and it seemed that Adele was that very person for him. The warm smile on his face said it all.

"It was a lovely ceremony, wasn't it?" I said as the three of us made our way towards our respective seats. "Gustave didn't pass out from nerves, which was a major relief."

"Yes, definitely. I had it in the back of my mind to be ready to catch him if the need arose," Nadir chuckled. "But he did well, and Lara looked beautiful."

"She was wearing the same necklace that you gave Christine all those years ago, was she not?" Adele asked. I could tell she was approaching the subject very carefully, well aware that it was a sore point in our relationship. Even still, as sensitive as the topic was, it had been years and she wasn't the one I had to be angry with for the events of that night; there was no cause for hesitation.

"She was, yes. Her engagement ring is a replica of the one I always wore, which I left with Christine. The necklace has the same onyx stones, and she needed something old for the wedding tradition, so I figured I would give her the necklace as well," I explained with a nod.

I noticed Adele give me a smile when I said it. "She means a lot to you, then. Lara, that is."

"Indeed she does. My son adores her, which automatically has me holding her in a positive light. Besides that, she helped me tremendously while Gustave was deployed during the war, and I've been teaching her to sing. She's like my daughter and nothing less than such."

"That's lovely, Erik," Adele replied, letting go of Nadir's arm as we reached their table and he pulled out a chair for her. "I'm sure she appreciates having you in her life."

"Well, that would be a new experience." I started to say more, only to turn my head when I noticed another carriage turn the corner into the park. "It seems our bride and groom have arrived, so I will speak with the two of you shortly," I said, smiling at them as I walked over to the head table. I quickly found my place between two empty seats; one was about to be taken by Gustave, while the other was set aside for William's photograph, which had already been put in place. I couldn't help but smile slightly when I saw the grin plastered on that boy's face in the photo. It truly reflected how excited he would have been had he gotten the opportunity to be in attendance.

I looked back up a moment later when I heard everyone applauding and was quick to join in as I noticed Gustave and Lara making their way into the tent, hand in hand. I suppose I had been so lost in thought about Will that I had completely missed the lead member of the small orchestra announcing their entrance. That aside, my attention was only on them as they greeted the guests and shared a quick kiss before making their way over to the head table. Gustave pulled out Lara's chair for her, and we all couldn't help but laugh as the two of them wrestled with the skirt of her dress in order for her to sit down comfortably. Once she finally got settled and Gustave sat down as well, dinner was able to be served and we all got to chatting before the speeches and dancing started. I was grateful for that fact; I would take any extra time I could get to run over what I was going to say in my speech.

~

Dinner ended far too quickly for my liking. As much as it tasted fantastic and the conversation was enjoyable while everyone ate, it still passed by in no time, which meant that the speeches were set to begin. Thankfully, Nadir was to deliver his, or rather William's, speech before I was set to give mine, which only eased my mind slightly.

As he was invited to the front of the room, I watched Adele kiss his cheek before he got to his feet and made his way to stand to the side of the head table. He cleared his throat as he glanced over at Gustave and Lara, giving them a smile before pulling the speech out of his breast pocket. 

"Just before we start with this, I would like to pass on my congratulations and best wishes to the newlyweds, as I think we all would," he said, pausing for the polite applause that followed his statement. "I did have a speech of my own prepared that I probably spent far too many sleepless nights fretting over, but Madeleine Edwards came to me some time ago and presented me with a much better option: the best man speech that her son, Gustave's best friend, William Edwards, wrote before his death." 

I heard Gustave gasp from where he sat next to me, so I reached over to set my hand on his knee for that extra support that I knew he would need as Nadir continued. 

"No part of this speech has been adjusted, altered, or omitted whatsoever. These are William's expressions, word for word," my friend said, glancing back at the head table with a slight smile before he started to recite William's speech: "Gustave Destler is, and always will be, my best friend. I've known him since we were twelve years old after we met at school when he introduced himself in French by accident on his first day. From then on, we were joined at the hip, partners in crime; our parents can attest to that. He was by my side for every major moment in my life. He was there to help me when I broke my leg, to support me when my father got so sick that we didn't know if he was going to make it while we were deployed, and to tease me and offer advice when I first took a liking to Jane, the girl that I'm going to marry one day. Knowing that Gustave was there for me whenever I needed him is such a blessing; to know that I could go to him when I was so happy that I couldn't contain my glee, when I needed a shoulder to cry on, or when I needed to get my anger off of my chest was an incredible feeling. He was the friend I never knew I needed but now that I have him, I feel like the luckiest person alive to know that he's my best friend. But all of the reasons that I just listed are the same reasons why I know that he is going to make Lara the happiest woman on earth." 

Nadir turned to look at Lara then and gave her a warm smile, and I glanced over to see her return the gesture from where she was resting her head on her husband's shoulder. "Lara, when I say that Gustave is going to love you and cherish you, make you laugh, hold you when you cry, and be by your side for every moment for the rest of your lives, truer words have never spoken. From the second he saw you, he was smitten; he never shut up about how beautiful you are, how much smarter you are than him, and how happy it makes him to just be in the same room, seeing your smile. I heard him say something once that I thought was just some lovesick nonsense, but now I see just how poetic it was. He said, 'I've read a lot of books with fantastic love stories, but our love story is my favourite.' I'll admit, I laughed at him, but he meant it. He really did. 

"Talking about marrying you, raising a family with you, spending his life with you put a grin on his face, brought a light to his eyes in a way that nothing and no one else could. You and I both know that he lost the most important woman in his life when his mother, Christine Daaé, died years ago. Both of us were privileged enough to never know that pain, but seeing how much it weighed on him almost made it seem like we had lost someone, lost a mother as well. To me, I never felt like I could do enough to help, but you are exactly what he needs to fill that void in his heart, at least to a degree; you are gentle and kind, caring and self-sacrificing with such a motherly attitude. All you need to do now is learn to sing and we'll be golden. That aside, you are the person who completes him, and Gustave is going to give you everything you could ever want and more. I cannot wait to see you two go on that journey together." 

As the speech concluded, applause filled the room and I barely had time to move my chair out of the way before Gustave pushed past me to get to his uncle and hug him tight. I could see his shoulders shaking as he cried, which only made it more difficult for me to keep my own tears at bay. When Christine had come up, I had almost lost my composure, as William had put everything so beautifully; Lara really had helped to fill the deepest part of my son’s heart that had so long been empty after his mother's death and that was a deed that both Gustave and I could never thank her enough for. 

Nadir held him tight for another moment before leaning back to cup his face in his hands, wiping his tears away with the pads of his thumbs. With a smile, he folded up the speech and tucked it into the breast pocket of Gustave's jacket, then started back to his table, patting my shoulder as he walked by. I gave him a nod, waiting for Gustave to sit down again and for the guests to settle before I got to my feet and walked to the front of the room. I quickly ran through my speech again, remembering Nadir's recommendation to try and keep it somewhat light, at least to start. 

"I'm not quite sure how I'm meant to follow something as wonderful as that, but I suppose I'll make an effort," I began, breathing a sigh of relief when I heard people chuckling at the comment. "In all honesty, this is a day that I never thought I would have a chance to experience; having children was not in my plans for most of my life. Until I met your mother." I was speaking directly to Gustave by that point; keeping my eyes on him and his wife instead of focusing on the room full of people and their silent judgment lessened my anxiety to a degree. 

"After meeting her, I saw a future for myself. Then, when you arrived, the light only got brighter and I came to love parenthood, being a father. You were such an amazing little boy and you never failed to be able to put a smile on my face. I figured I should pick a story to testify to that fact, and the one that came to mind was our failed attempt at cooking together when you were about eleven. You had been trying to cheer me up; it had been a year since we had lost your mother and you were determined to make me smile..."

* * *

_I had holed myself up in my study, burying myself in my work to block out the heart-wrenching thoughts that had been running through my mind since I had woken up from an already restless sleep. Was it careless to be away from my child when he was struggling as much as I was? Perhaps, but I had already forced myself to leave the door ajar so Gustave could come in and out as he pleased, which he had already done once or twice._

_As I worked, I heard the quiet creak of the door being pushed open and soon felt my son's hand on my back as he rested his chin on my shoulder. "Hello, my boy," I said quietly, still working on the commission in front of me as I spoke._

_"Hi, Papa. Are you done work yet?" Gustave asked, watching me work over my shoulder. "It looks really good so far. Can't you take a break?"_

_"Gustave, I just need to get a bit more done. You were fine reading by yourself up until now, weren't you?"_

_I heard him sigh, and the next thing I knew, he had pulled my pen out of my hand and made himself quite comfortable on my lap. "I just don't want you to work anymore. I don't want to be by myself," he admitted, leaning his head against my chest._

_"I know, I'm sorry," I replied, leaning back in my chair and reaching my hand up to cradle his head. "Today is just very difficult, which you obviously understand."_

_We sat quietly for a moment, the silence only broken by the occasional sniffle from Gustave, but eventually, he sat up and smiled at me. "But Papa, even though we're both sad today, something really great happened this time last year."_

_"And what would that be,_ mio soldatino?" 

_"We became a family."_

_I couldn't help but smile at the comment; somehow I had been so blinded by my grief that I hadn't thought to recall that I had truly become a father a year ago. "I suppose we did, hm? It truly is hard to believe that it's been a year already," I said, smoothing down his hair as I spoke._

_The boy nodded, reaching up to push my hand away. "It's been kind of like an adventure," he said. "I always wanted to go on an adventure and now I have."_

_"Oh, you think_ you've _been on an adventure?" I chuckled. "I have had to figure out how to raise a child; I am on an expedition."_

_"But we're doing it together, Papa! That just makes it fun," Gustave replied._

_"Yes, I suppose it does. I have had so much fun with you, my boy."_

_"And that's why we should try and be a little happy today. I think there should be a special dinner to celebrate."_

_I raised a brow as I looked at him. "Oh, is that so? Tell me, then, what are you making tonight?" I inquired._

_"I think you mean what are_ we _making? Let's do it together, Papa, come on. It will be fun," Gustave insisted._

_I looked at him as I considered it, though the wide smile on his face won me over almost immediately. My work could wait; spending time with my son was much more important at the moment. "Alright, then. Let's get started, shall we?"_

_Gustave immediately gave me a tight hug before he jumped off of my lap and bolted out of the room, clearly making a beeline for the kitchen. "Gustave, wait! Don't touch the stove!" I called, getting to my feet and running after him._

_When I got into the kitchen, I found him pulling a step stool up to the counter so he would be at a better height to help me. "What do we have the ingredients for, Papa?" he asked._

_With a relieved sigh after realizing he wasn't near the stove and couldn't hurt himself, I walked over to look through the cupboards and icebox to figure out what we had on hand. "Well, a few things, I suppose. We have plenty of food, more than the two of us will probably eat. All that tells me is that I'm spending too much money on groceries," I sighed._

_"Well, what do you want to make?"_

_"Do you have something in mind? You were the one with this good idea, to be fair."_

_"I wanted to leave it up to you."_

_"Well, we are off to a brilliant start, aren't we?" I asked with a laugh. "Two indecisive people."_

_Gustave giggled and gave me a nod. "We are. It's sort of funny," he said._

_"I suppose it is, yes. Still, we need to come to a decision. I would prefer to do something simple, if you don't mind, Gustave."_

_"I think that's probably safer for everybody. And the house," Gustave replied._

_I found myself laughing harder than I had thought I would. He had a point; every meal that I made without incident was a triumph as I worked to hone my cooking abilities. Now to cook while managing my child? If we succeeded, it would be an achievement to go down in our family history._

_"Yes, very true," I said, grabbing one of the few cookbooks I had purchased and flipping through it before I settled on a recipe. "Look. Chicken and pasta. How hard can it be?"_

_"Probably not too bad. Let's try it!"_

_~_

_In due time, we finished cooking our dinner without major incident, though looking at my son, I could already tell that the process of cleaning up might take quite some time. "Gustave, how are your hands such a mess?" I asked him._

_"I don't really know, but we're both a mess, Papa! Look at your shirt!" he exclaimed, pointing at me and starting to giggle._

_Looking down at myself, I couldn't help but groan when I saw that the sauce we had made had splattered all over my once-white dress shirt. "Dear God, this is going to be impossible to wash,” I muttered._

_"It's fine, it's fine. Come on, I want to taste it," Gustave said, tugging on my sleeve as if that would make me move faster._

_"Alright, alright." I quickly served two plates and set them on the table, then went to open the cutlery drawer, only to pause when I looked inside. "Right, we have an issue."_

_"What is it, Papa?"_

_Instead of offering a verbal explanation, I simply held up the one available set of cutlery and turned to look at him. "This is the only fork and knife that we have that is clean in this house. Didn't I tell you to wash the dishes last night?" I asked._

_"Yes, you did," Gustave replied, clearly not finding the issue I had with the situation._

_"Well, the sink is quite full. Even more so now after our little endeavour this evening," I pointed out. "Why didn't you do as I asked?"_

_"I was really tired yesterday. I went to bed early."_

_"Oh, you had an_ exhausting _day, hm? What was it that made it so tiring?"_

_"I was playing outside while you were working. I climbed the tree in the backyard to play pirates and look out over the neighbourhood, I played on the swing that you made for me. It's tiring," he explained._

_I couldn't help but sigh as he provided his reasoning. "You are certainly my son when it comes to physical activity; you tire out easily. Your mother was a ballerina, why didn't you get that strength?"_

_Gustave simply shrugged. "I don't know, Papa."_

_"I know you don't, my boy, it was a rhetorical question. Still, you're turning out to be too much like me, you know. It's frightening. I was relying on you being more like your mother in practically every way."_

_"Okay, but Papa, I'm hungry and we only have one cutlery set." Clearly, he had no interest in what I was saying; food was his priority, as it almost always was with how fast he was growing lately._

_"Yes, that is our dilemma. Were you expecting me to do the dishes just because you didn't?" I asked._

_Gustave nodded. "I knew you probably would," he said._

_"Well, now I'm not going to and you can do that after dinner," I said, quickly washing another fork and knife before I walked back to the table to sit down. "For now, eat your dinner."_

_"Yes, Papa," Gustave replied, taking a cutlery set and cutting a piece of chicken for himself, only to frown as he put it in his mouth. "It's sort of dry, Papa."_

_I followed his lead and ate a piece of my own chicken. "Never mind 'sort of'; it_ is _dry. How did we mess it up? We followed the recipe exactly."_

_"Maybe the pasta will be better."_

_"Let's hope so because we have nothing else." I collected a forkful of pasta and it into my mouth, only to cough when the taste of salt assaulted my tastebuds. "Dear God, how much salt did you put in the water, Gustave?" I asked, quickly getting up to pour myself a glass of water._

_"The recipe said 'add salt to taste'! It wasn't salty enough for me!" Gustave replied._

_"Oh, that is_ very _salty, my boy," I laughed before rinsing out my mouth. "But it's alright. Sometimes we just need to triple check a recipe."_

_Gustave nodded. "This was...interesting."_

_I sighed, running my fingers through my hair. "Indeed. We salted the pasta to death, tried to burn the house down while we made chicken, and destroyed my dress shirt, but we had fun, did we not?"_

_"We did, but what are we going to do for dinner? I'm still hungry," he pointed out._

_"We could go to the café you found on our first night here. Make it the spot for this anniversary."_

_"That sounds perfect, Papa," Gustave said. "But we should probably change first."_

_"Oh, most definitely. I'll race you to see who can get changed faster," I said as I bolted down the hall and up the stairs, laughing when I heard him accusing me of cheating as he ran after me. Dashing into my room, I was quick to unbutton my shirt and toss it into the waste bin, knowing there was no saving it, before pulling on a fresh shirt and waistcoat. Grabbing my jacket, I ran into the hall and appeared in my son's room with a resounding, "Ha!" only for my smile to drop when I saw him already sitting on his bed in a fresh shirt, reading a book. "What? How?"_

_"I only had to slip my shirt off and put on a clean one. Yours have all those buttons," Gustave said as he glanced up at me. "And they’re lopsided, so you wouldn't have won anyway."_

_"Wh-" I stuttered, looking down at myself and finding that my buttons were, in fact, done up wrong, leaving one hole without a button. With a huff, I pulled off my jacket and walked back to my room as I unbuttoned my waistcoat, a smile on my face as I heard my son giggling all the while._

* * *

"So Lara, although he has improved, I still wouldn't let Gustave cook for you," I said as I concluded the story. I couldn't help but smile when I saw my son laughing with his wife while laughter from the guests seemed to fill the park. Turning my head, I looked at Nadir, who gave me a nod. That was the encouragement I needed to proceed with the speech, which he obviously recognized; he had heard me rehearsing and knew that the next part was significantly more heartfelt and emotional, so to have his support helped with my nerves...to a degree. With a deep breath, I cleared my throat, clearly getting the attention of my audience because the laughter soon stopped. I looked to Nadir again for another expression of encouragement, then took another breath before I finally continued my speech. 

"Gustave, to say you saved my life is almost an understatement," I said, already having to clear my throat when I started to get choked up. I wasn't surprised that I was getting emotional; I had kept the speech on the shorter side for that exact reason. Still, I hadn't expected for it to happen so quickly, but I suppose I had never really told Gustave just how much he meant to me, especially in such a fashion. 

"I have not had an easy go at life, what with never staying in one place for very long and always seeming to lose the people that mattered so much to me. And then to have you...I had never known such happiness before then. Never had I smiled quite so much as I did when you would burst into my room in the morning to jump on my bed and wake me up in the morning. I had never known that little flutter in my chest that I felt whenever you hugged me and came to me when you had a nightmare and wanted me to keep you safe. The love I feel when I look at you and the light that you have brought to my life is like nothing else I have ever experienced and I cannot even begin to thank you for the life we have lived together. As I raised you, I constantly wondered if I was doing anything right, if I was setting you up to enjoy the most perfect life possible. Now that I see you here this evening, married to the most beautiful, intelligent, kind-hearted young woman, though, I know that I must have done something right because I can tell that your life together is going to be incredible. 

“Lara, I don’t have the words to describe how amazing it is that you are a part of our little family; you effectively saved my life when Gustave was away and I am forever indebted to you for that. I cannot express my gratitude for the fact that I now have someone in this family with the same reading taste as me, so I will be able to have intelligent conversations for a change. I would also like to wish you the best of luck because I know how much of a handful he can be; and before you get defensive, you know I’m right, Gustave. I knew he loved you from the moment he told me about you, and I couldn’t be happier than to know I was right about that. I know you will bring out the best in one another. I love you both more than you know. Gustave, thank you for the memories, and I look forward to making many more with you as you start this new chapter in this life." 

I took a deep breath as I finished my speech, looking down at my feet and reaching up to quickly wipe a tear away, only to be tackled by Gustave as he hugged me tightly. "I love you, Papa," I heard him whisper. "Thank you for everything." 

"My pleasure," I whispered back, lifting my head and smiling as Lara joined the hug. "Congratulations again to the two of you." 

"Thank you, Erik. That was absolutely beautiful," Lara said, smiling at me. "I appreciate you giving a speech. I know you were nervous."

"Anything for you two, my dear," I replied, turning back to the audience and smiling wide. "Just one last thing; a little gift, if you will. I know a home is one of the foundations for a new couple. It gives them a place to settle in, grow, and all of those lovely things for their family. I also happen to know that the two of you are looking at temporary accommodations for now while you look for your permanent home. Frankly, I think that's ridiculous, given that I'm an architect, so I am going to fix that and give you your home." I couldn't help but chuckle when Lara gasped and Gustave's jaw went slack as I said it. It was unexpected; my intentions exactly. "It was a custom commission that never worked out, but I finished it for you two after your engagement. I do hope you'll like it." 

Lara gave me another hug then that was tighter than before. "Thank you," she whispered. 

Hearing the tightness of her voice, I leaned back and shook my head. "What did I say about crying?" I asked, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. 

"I know, it's...that's just so amazing. I swear these are happy tears," she replied, laughing as Gustave gently moved her aside to hug me. 

"Well, you're very welcome. I do hope you'll like it," I said, squeezing my son before looking up to see Philippe standing off to the side and watching us with a smile. "Let's sit down now, though, and give Monsieur de Chagny a chance to talk." 

"I didn't mean to rush you," Philippe chuckled. 

"No, no, it's good that I shut up and let someone else talk before I say something I regret," I replied with a laugh. “I’ve managed to get myself kicked out of quite a few places when I keep talking for too long.”

Philippe laughed and gave me a handshake. "I know they thanked you, but I'd like to do the same. A house - one designed by someone with your talent, no less - is incredible." 

"It's my pleasure, really. Anything for those two." I gave his hand another firm shake before I let go and stepped back. "Now, I'll let you give your speech. All the best." 

Philippe nodded and walked up to where I had been standing, looking very nervous as he straightened out the papers in his hands. “Lara, my baby girl, it’s hard for me to believe that I am standing here today. I remember finding out that you were a little girl and my heart stopping right then and there. I was afraid if I’m being honest with you; I didn’t know what to do. I’d had experience raising a boy, thanks to your brother, but this was uncharted territory for me. I thought I couldn’t possibly be of any help to you. But the second I held you in my arms for the first time, something in my mind clicked and told me that I was going to do everything in my power to make sure I was there for you in every way I knew how. You became this precious jewel to me that I needed to protect at all costs; though I do not doubt that you can handle yourself, you’ll always be our baby girl in the eyes of your mother and me. You have taught me so much and I can only hope I have been able to impart some of my knowledge to you. Looking back, I think one of my fondest memories of you was from when you were very little; don’t worry, I am not going to embarrass you too badly. Your mother already warned me against that.” I looked over to Lara, who was smiling ear to ear with every word her father said as she clutched Gustave’s arm. I could tell that it had meant the world to her to have him present, saying the things that he was. 

“You must have been about five or six, which was a very inquisitive phase for you that has continued to this day. At the time, though, you didn’t quite have the courage to come to me and ask the questions yourself. So I distinctly remember many conversations with André where I answered countless questions. I like to think you thought you were being clever but I knew better; I knew the difference between your questions and your brother’s. I knew when it was one of yours because it was a question that, oftentimes, I didn’t know the answer to. I always tried to answer them nonetheless and then he would run off to find you and tell you what I had said. I tried to make sure that your curiosity never died because that is what has helped form you into the wonderful woman you are today, which I could not be prouder of. I would also like to commend you for your ability to get André to do literally anything you asked of him; it’s something you still need to teach me how to do. You had him wrapped around your little finger and you still do, and I would just like to say on his behalf that you two deserve all the happiness in the world. You’ll be relieved to know that André approves of Gustave; he got the chance to interrogate him on the day he asked for permission to propose. 

“Gustave, I do hope you know that you had nothing to be anxious about when you came to the house that day. I am truly proud to call you my son-in-law and I would like to personally welcome you to the family. I know that when we met, you were hit with something that I don’t believe any of us were expecting. But at the same time, I don’t believe any of us were expecting how important you two were to each other. Lara, I believe it was your curiosity that led you to Gustave. Without that, I don’t think you would have been in that infamous music room that day; who knows where we would be right now if that day had gone differently. I don’t believe either of you would care to find out the answer to that question, ironically enough. If I can give you any advice after twenty-four years of marriage, it is that the first rule is to make sure that you are always able to talk to one another. I know that you two will be absolutely fine because I have seen that you two can communicate without saying a word. That level of connection is something that people only ever see in fairytales and you have been able to capture it in real life. Hold on to that as tight as possible because what you have is special and it truly something that you only see once in a lifetime. May you both be as happy as you are now because that is what you deserve and so much more.”

When he was done with his speech, Lara ran as fast as she could in her dress and almost knocked him over with a hug. Gustave was not far behind and hugged Philippe as well; I could tell that the speech had moved him. It felt good to know that Gustave was welcomed into their family as wholeheartedly as Lara was accepted into ours. 

The applause that had filled the room continued as Philippe walked back to the table, his arm around his daughter's waist. As he did, I couldn't help but notice the difference in the volume of the applause and the general reception to Philippe's speech and mine. Even in that respect, I was put on the outs with the family; if the mask and my social status weren't enough, not even well-thought-out words to my son on his wedding day could earn me their respect. Besides that, I was still trying to smother my anger after I had seen some of the looks that Nadir had received as soon as he stood up. I was sure those individuals believed they were being subtle, but I saw it; the disapproval in their eyes that he was allowed to speak, that he was even permitted to be present as a guest rather than a servant. It astounded and infuriated me that things as simple as race and religion could create such division between people; I had seen it firsthand in Persia and had dealt with it accordingly, but I didn't want Nadir to have to deal with that. 

I pushed those thoughts aside as Philippe sat back down and Gustave stood in his place, prepared to say a few words. "Lara and I would both like to thank you all for joining us on this incredible day," he began. "It means a lot to both of us to have you here. Thank you to my Uncle Nadir Khan, my father, Erik Destler, and my father-in-law, Philippe de Chagny for those lovely speeches as well; they were very touching. I especially appreciated my father's, what with his little story. Thank you, Papa; that was a great memory from our years together, and your gift was absolutely incredible. Now that I have the attention of everyone, though, I would just like to tell a quick story that Lara begged me to tell - it's a favourite of hers - before I get to a little surprise. So that story just so happens to be the time my father forgot me at school."

I couldn't help but groan when he said it, not keen on the fact that he was telling a story of my flaws as a parent. "Of all stories," I said, turning to look at my son and hoping that he would reveal that he was just joking. 

"Oh, you had to have known this was coming," he replied. 

I sighed, preparing myself to be embarrassed. "I had an inkling, but I had hoped you had the respect for me not to tell it in public like this. How wrong was I." 

"Oh, come on, Papa. It was a great story. Maybe not at the moment, but now it's fun. It was after school one day..." 

* * *

_I hurried out of school with my friends, setting our bookbag down so we could run around the schoolyard and lay until their mothers arrived to pick them up. I waved goodbye, pushing Stephen away when he tried to mess up my hair, then grabbed my bookbag and looked around for Papa, but he was nowhere in sight. 'He must be on the phone with a client,' I decided as I sat on a rock by the door of the school. 'He'll be here soon.'_

_I sat waiting for a while, but I eventually lost track of time after I pulled out my book for English class to read. I had finished three chapters already when I looked up again, realizing Papa still wasn't there; he had forgotten about me. I told myself not to worry and had to bite my lip to stop myself from tearing up, knowing he couldn't have meant it._

_I turned my head when I heard the front door open and a teacher that I recognized as Mister Bryan stepped out. I noticed him frown when he saw me and asked, "Why are you still here? Where are your parents?"_

_All I could do was shrug. "My Papa was supposed to come to get me but I don't know where he is," I replied._

_"Alright, well, I can't leave you here, which means I need to stay," Mister Bryan said with a sigh. "Come on, come inside with me and we'll call your father."_

_"I'm sorry if I'm stopping you from going home," I said as I got to my feet and followed him back into the school. "I really don't know why my Papa isn't here."_

_"We'll sort it out in a moment, don't worry." The teacher led me into the school office and exchanged a word with the old lady sitting at the reception desk. It amazed me that someone could actually talk to her; all the students were scared of her, myself included. I hesitated to step up to her desk to use her phone when Mister Bryan told me to do so, and he must have noticed because he gave me a warm smile and gently nudged me forward. "Go on. She doesn't bite," he whispered._

_I couldn't help but laugh quietly as I took the earpiece and asked the operator to connect me to our phone at home, then waited for Papa to pick up on the other line. Eventually, I heard him, and he was using what I liked to call his 'businessman' voice - the serious tone he used when he was working with customers: "Hello, this is Erik Destler."_

_"Hi, Papa. I need you to come and pick me up at school," I said._

_I could hear him gasp through the phone and I knew he was going to be mad at himself for the entire situation. "Oh my god. Gustave, I will be right there," he said, and with that, the line went dead._

_I hung up the earpiece and looked to Mister Bryan with a nod. "He'll be here soon."_

* * *

"I would like to interject," I said, interrupting the story my son was telling and laughing along with some of the guests. "In my defence, I thought Madeleine was picking you up, so you can't put it all on me." 

Gustave simply scoffed and laughed at that. "Yes, that was one of the many excuses you gave me that day. Now, can I get back to the story?" he asked. 

"Fine, fine. Excuse the fact that I needed to defend my parenting." 

"You can do that later. Now, as I said, I called Papa and he frantically told me what he was on his way..."

* * *

_I had been in the office for a few minutes, talking with Mister Bryan and laughing at the funny stories he told, when Papa burst into the room. His face was bright red and he was breathing hard, which told me he'd run to the school instead of waiting for a cab._

_"Hello, Gustave. I am_ **_so_ ** _sorry," he said._

_"Where were you?" I asked with a frown._

_"I was working, I'm sorry. I thought it was your Aunt Maddie's day to pick up you and William," Papa replied. "Didn't she pick up Will? Why didn't she bring you home too?"_

_"William wasn't at school today. He had to go to the dentist."_

_I noticed Papa pause as he thought about that, remembering that fact that both Aunt Maddie and I had told him. "Yes...yes, he did. I knew that. I'm sorry, my boy."_

_"It's okay, Papa. You're here now," I said, getting to my feet and smiling at him._

_"You aren't upset? Because I'm a bit upset with myself," Papa said, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me close to him._

_"Well, you were being productive, so I'm happy. I know that it can be hard to focus with me around sometimes."_

_"Sometimes it can be, but most of the time, I appreciate your little interruptions. They force me to take breaks."_

_I smiled up at him, happy that he wasn't upset about the fact that I came into his study to see him while he was working. "Good. Can we go home now? I have some math that I need help with; Mister Bryan tried, but he doesn't know how to do it."_

_"Well, I would be happy to help," Papa replied, turning to give Mister Bryan a handshake. "Thank you for watching him."_

_"Oh, it was no trouble. He seems like a good kid," the teacher said._

_"I like to think so, but I might be a bit biased. I'm sorry if this kept you from getting home. I'm sure you have a family as well," Papa said._

_Mister Bryan shook his head. "I'm sure no tears were shed over me being a couple more minutes later."_

_"Well, we won't make you any later than you already are. Thank you again."_

_"Don't mention it. Now, go help him with that math homework; I'm a history teacher, numbers are not my forte."_

* * *

"That said, Papa, I can't thank you enough for these years together," Gustave said as he concluded the story. "They have been fantastic and you have taught me so much. I'll be able to use all of those lessons to make sure I give my wife the life that she deserves. Philippe, Marguerite, I have to thank you as well for being so kind to me, taking me under your wing and into your family. It really does mean a lot." 

I smiled over at my son, turning my head to see the same expression on both Philippe and Marguerite's faces. I could only imagine they were feeling the same joy and pride as I was at that moment. However, I frowned when Philippe gestured to something in front of me. When I turned my head, I found a gift box set in front of me on the table. 

"Oh, now what is this?" I asked, looking up at Gustave. 

"A gift, Papa. You weren't at the wedding shower, so we didn't get to give it to you. Naturally, we decided to give it to you now," Gustave said with a grin. "Go on, open it up." 

I sighed, shaking my head as I untied the bow on the box. "What is-" I said, only to stop when I lifted the lid and found a Siamese kitten staring back at me. "Gustave, Lara, what have you two done?" 

"We brought your little Ayesha back," Lara replied, leaning over to wrap her arms around me. 

I couldn't help but smile as I picked up the kitten, laughing when it mewed as I did. "Yes, it seems you did. Hello, little lady," I said, scratching her behind the ears and looking at my son. "Thank you. This is wonderful." 

Gustave smiled back at me as I set Ayesha back in her box, gently putting it under the table. "I'm glad you like her," he said before turning back to the guests. "Just to finish off my little speech here, I wanted to pay tribute to the incredible talent and love for music that both of my parents have and passed on to me. Lara, this song is for you, my love." 

Within the first few notes of the song being played, I was at full attention. I recognized it; I knew my own music anywhere. The little band was playing it beautifully, especially considering how small it was. I looked to Gustave with wide eyes as he started to sing the first lines of the aria I wrote for Christine...the last aria she ever sang. Memories of that night flooded my mind, but none of the horrific ones, though; only the beautiful ones stood out. How stunning Christine had looked with my onyx necklace around her neck and her light purple dress hugging her body perfectly; how my heart had fluttered when she sang, choosing me over anyone else as she did; how my life had grown so much brighter at that moment. All the plans for our future together had seemed to materialize in an instant. I had thought it couldn’t get better than that, but as I listened to my son sing that very song, I realized that I hadn't known perfection yet. Not until the very moment I was living in the present. 

As he concluded the first chorus, I was prepared to hear him sing the second verse alone, but when I heard a female voice beside me, my heart skipped a beat. For a moment, I almost believed it to be my angel herself, but when I turned, I saw Lara singing as she stood up to join her husband. I thought it was all a part of his plan, but turning back to Gustave, I saw shock and wonder in his eyes, clearing having had no idea that she was going to join him. I realized then that she had never told him that I had been teaching and training her using _Love Never Dies;_ he was brand new to the idea of her knowing the song but was so clearly in love with it. 

Both my son and I listened to her in awe, both of us undoubtedly picking up on the little similarities to Christine; the way she pronounced some of the words, the emphasis she placed on others. One perfect reflection of Christine's performance, however, was the passion; Lara was in love with what she was doing, finally putting her voice on display to be heard by someone besides me instead of hiding it away. I would have been smiling wide with pride as her father-in-law and teacher, but tears filled my eyes instead as Gustave and Lara's voices locked together as they sang the final chorus. I was stunned; only an hour ago, they had vowed to be together forever, their lives permanently intertwined, and here those vows were, embodied in song as their voices intertwined to create a flawless harmony

I found myself mouthing the words as they sang, finally managing to smile despite the tears in my eyes when I heard Lara sing the final notes of the song. She had always been nervous with those notes during our lessons, insisting they were too high or that she wasn't skilled enough to hit them. On the contrary, though, as she sang with her husband, she sang the notes flawlessly without a twinge of doubt in her voice as she did. As the song came to a close, I joined the other guests in their applause, watching Lara kiss Gustave before she returned to her seat. 

"That was incredible," I said, having leaned over to speak in her ear. "You sounded beautiful." 

"Thank you, Erik. It's all thanks to your teaching, you know that. Now, stop crying," Lara replied, reaching up to wipe a tear away that I hadn't noticed had fallen onto my cheek. 

"I will, I will," I chuckled, taking her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze before I turned my head to see Gustave still standing at the front of the room. 

"Well, that brings the speeches to a close; I'm sure everyone's heard enough rambling tonight, so it's time to dance instead," he said slowly walking through the tent towards the table where Maddie, Charles and Lizzie were sitting. "This first dance is very special and unplanned, mostly. I had said we weren't going to have a mother-son dance, and although my own mother isn't with us today, Madeleine Edwards has become like a mother to me over the past eleven years of my life. That is why I would be honoured if she would share this dance with me this evening." 

Lara and I shared a surprised glance when we heard him; both of us recalled his emotional response to the suggestion of dancing with anyone besides Christine, so we were naturally amazed that he was going to. That said, if he was going to share the dance with anyone other than his mother, Madeleine was always the obvious choice. She had been as much of a mother to him as Christine had been; he had even called her 'Mother' a few times as a young boy. Although those moments had always ended with him burying his bright red face in my chest to hide his embarrassment, they made his love for her obvious. I had always wanted him to have a mother figure after Christine's death, but I hadn't known where she would come from; I knew I wouldn't be courting or marrying anyone, so when we met Madeleine and she became the mother and the friend that we both needed, I was ecstatic. So to see the two of them slowly swaying back and forth to the music, Maddie resting her head on his chest - and crying on top of that - while he held her close, meant the world to me and brought more tears to my eyes. 

"Damn him," I whispered, quickly wiping my tears away and looking to Lara to comment, only to laugh quietly when I saw her desperately fighting back her own tears to preserve her makeup. "Well done, don't let that makeup smear." 

She giggled and shook her head as she stole my handkerchief to dab at her eyes. "Thank you, I'm trying." 

With a smile, I turned back to watch my son and Maddie dancing, laughing when Gustave dipped her as the dance came to an end. As he walked her back to her table, Philippe got up and offered Lara his hand, then escorted her out to the dance floor to share their father-daughter dance. I couldn't help but sigh when people got to their feet to gather around and watch, which they hadn't done for my son, but I pushed those thoughts aside when I noticed Charles making his way over to me, drink in hand. 

"Hello John," I said with a cheeky grin, pleased to be able to keep that joke alive. 

Charles laughed, shaking his head fondly as I stood up to give him a handshake. "Are you ever going to give me an explanation for that?" he asked. 

"You know what, John? I don't think I will," I replied. 

"God, you're an idiot. I suppose it's just an inside joke now, is it?" 

"On that, we can agree." 

With a laugh, Charles raised his champagne glass to tap it against mine before we both took a sip, then turned to watch Lara and Philippe's dance. "Today was lovely, wasn't it? Lara looks beautiful, and I don't think I've seen Gustave smile quite so much," he said. 

"Yes, everything came out beautifully. Lizzie did a fantastic job," I said as I looked over at where my goddaughter was dancing with Gustave, standing on his feet for a tiny bit of added height. "I could practically feel your tension when she walked down the aisle; I thought you were going to pass out from holding your breath." 

"Look, I love and trust my daughter, but she's only three and a half. The last thing I wanted to happen was for her to get distracted or nervous or trip and fall, good God," Charles said, taking a long sip of his drink. 

"Well, none of that happened and she looked precious. Now she can dance until she can't keep her little eyes open. If this doesn’t make her pass out tonight, I’m afraid nothing will." 

Charles smiled as he watched his daughter dancing with my son. "I really appreciate Gustave doing that with Maddie. The dance, that is. I'll have to thank him tonight. As the wedding got closer, she just seemed to get sadder about William and how he wouldn't be there to be with Gustave at the altar. I haven't held her as she cried herself to sleep in quite a while,” he said quietly. 

I sighed, hating that Maddie's grief had resurfaced so viciously over what should have been such a happy occasion. "At least she's feeling better now, to a degree. For the longest while, we didn't think he would do that with anyone. When we were planning everything, he had a bit of an emotional outburst; we put the planning on hold so he could try and calm down. Lara had suggested that he dance with Marguerite, but the thought of dancing with anyone besides his mother broke his heart. Still, Maddie has become a mother to him, so I can see why he felt comfortable dancing with her. It was a surprise for us all, though. And the best man speech as well; I'm glad Gustave got to hear that. I only hope it's what William would have wanted." 

"I think Will would have loved it. Nadir did a fantastic job," Charles said with a smile. 

"Well, he's always been the better orator between the two of us. He was made for people, whereas I was certainly not if my appearance didn't give that away. Still, people person or not, I don't think I've seen him as nervous as he was this morning when he finally read it over," I said with a sigh. "He wanted to do William justice." 

"I can say confidently that he did," Charles replied. "I just hope that brings some peace to my sweet boy." 

A tight-lipped smile on my face, I patted my friend on the shoulder, hoping to convey my sympathies as I had so many times before. His mood quickly lightened, though, when he saw Nadir walk by and he reached out to pull him over to us. 

"Nadir, thank you so much for the speech this evening,” he said. 

"Oh, my pleasure. I'm glad you enjoyed it; I was worried I wouldn't do it very well because I read it last minute after rehearsing my own for so long. But I'm glad I was able to bring a little piece of William to the party this evening," Nadir replied, smiling as Charles pulled him into a hug. 

"We appreciate it so much. Maddie especially; she cried, but they were happy tears. She was just glad to hear anything from William's beautiful mind brought to life." 

"I'm glad I got to do that for you both." Nadir turned to me then, giving me a light punch in the shoulder. "Your speech was lovely, Erik. Beautifully done, truly." 

"Thank you," I said, starting to fiddle with my ring. "I was ridiculously nervous, so I'm glad my sentences were somewhat coherent despite that." 

Nadir gave me a small smile as he reached over and set his hand over mine to get me to stop fidgeting. "It was perfect. All the practicing on me paid off, hm?" 

"I suppose it did," I said with a laugh. "I'm still in shock a bit, though; I just gave a speech at my son's _wedding._ Can you believe we're here now, Nadir? It seems like only yesterday he was that ten-year-old with big eyes of wonder about the world, asking me every question that popped into his head." 

"I do share your sentiments, Erik," said a voice from behind me. Turning around, we saw Philippe walking over to us, having just finished his dance with his daughter. "It seems only a moment ago, Lara was just my little girl, playing with tea sets and dolls, and now she's married. That said, I know she's in good hands with Gustave. Her father-in-law isn't too bad either."

"Thank you," I chuckled. "I must say, I think I trust Lara to be sensible more than I trust my own boy. That trust extends to you as well, Philippe. Though I will admit that I was wary of your family for a long time, the kindness and open-heartedness shown to us have repaired that. For that, I thank you." 

I offered him my hand to shake, only for him to laugh and push it aside. "We're family, we're past handshakes," he said, hugging me instead. Admittedly, it was a bit awkward, but I knew he was coming from a good place. 

"Now, I feel I have to mention the little performance we got tonight," Charles piped up. "Gustave was amazing, as always - it's almost a given with his bloodline - but Philippe, your daughter was incredible." 

"Thank you. I have to agree with you; I had no idea she could sing like that," Philippe replied, looking at me as if he was expecting an explanation. Then again, of course, he was; amongst the four of us, I was the only one who was musically inclined and he knew that. I couldn't tell the truth, though; Lara didn't want me to, and I couldn't betray her trust. 

"Oh, she truly is a natural talent. It was spectacular," I said. 

Philippe raised a brow as he looked at me. "While I appreciate that and I am sure that my daughter does have a natural talent, as she does in many things, you're fidgeting with your ring, which Gustave does as well when he's nervous. So what is the true reason behind her beautiful voice?"

"What do you mean? She has a gift," I said, cursing myself for letting my anxious ticks become so obvious. 

"A fact that I am not denying, but to have the ability to sing with such clarity and to reach such notes with no training doesn't seem plausible to me. I'm sure even Christine herself needed some training from a masterful teacher to get her voice to be as beautiful as it was." 

I sighed, glancing over at Nadir for some form of support, only to see him give me a slight shrug. Finally, I caved, realizing that I couldn't lie any longer: "Alright. But please don't tell Lara that I told you; she wasn't sure what you and Marguerite would say. I have been giving her vocal lessons."

"I see. How long have you been doing that?" 

"It began while Gustave was away," I replied, the lack of any particular emotion on the Comte's face frightening me more than if he had been livid about it. 

"So a couple of years now. Not that I'm surprised; I would imagine that to train her voice to that calibre would take a lot of time and practice," Philippe said with a nod. "But I know nothing about that. Music is a foreign language to me." 

"You should know that she has a gift and natural curiosity for music," I said. 

"Well, it certainly sounds like it, yes. Those two sounded perfect together, at least to me. I suppose it’s another way those two were designed for each other. I'm a bit upset that I didn't know about her talent before tonight, Lara and I are usually very open with one another.." 

I sighed, glancing down at my feet for a moment. "She was unsure of what you would think. She thinks very highly of your opinion of her." 

Philippe smiled, clearly glad to hear that his daughter still valued his input so much. "She's told me as much in the past as well," he said. "I must say, though, I personally cannot object to her learning something like this; it's a beautiful talent to have. I believe her mother would be a bit more...apprehensive to find out that she's being trained, even by a teacher so clearly as talented as yourself. Her eyes practically leapt out of their sockets when Lara began; I thought she would faint. I’m sure you know that nobility and those who perform the arts have never had the best relationship." 

I laughed before I could stop myself. "Believe me, I am well aware of that," I said. "I remember that it was Christine's first performance in years when she sang on Coney Island. When she married your little brother, she had to give it all up. I still don't know how someone like her - someone who _was_ music - was ever able to do that." 

"Yes, I hate that she had to abandon it. She was such a talent; it was sad to see it wasted. The only time I ever heard it - outside of the Opera, that is - was the one time I got to visit them when Gustave was little. I heard her sing him a lullaby; he was crying about something, though I can't remember what, exactly. What I do recall, though, is how beautiful it was." 

"Indeed it was. Your daughter's voice reminds me of it." 

"I'm sure that means a lot to you, having that sort of familiar voice." 

"More than I can easily express,” I replied with a nod. 

"Well, you're clearly an incredible teacher, Erik. Natural talent or not, you've done wonders. I'm glad I finally got to hear her, and I hope I'll hear her again as you continue mentoring her," Philippe said, smiling at me. 

"I hope so too." 

I went to continue our conversation but stopped before I could say a word when Maddie tackled Nadir in a hug from behind, sending him stumbling forward with a groan. "Well hello, Madeleine," I said.

"You’re not the one I came to see," Maddie quickly retorted, squeezing my friend tightly. "I came to ask our lovesick friend for the explanation that he owes us." 

Nadir choked out a laugh. "Madeleine, I can't breathe. Let me go," he said. 

"You know, I wouldn't mind hearing some more about this. I noticed the lady on your arm today as well, Nadir," Philippe said with a smirk. 

"Yes, yes, I know you did," Nadir said, finally managing to free himself from Maddie’s grasp. "She is an old friend that I knew in Paris. She moved to America, then back to Europe, to Switzerland. We kept up our correspondence through letters, our comments to each other getting a bit more...flirtatious over time if you will. I went to Switzerland for a month or so, then brought her back as my 'date'." 

A squeal escaped Madie when she heard the story and she was quick to hug him tightly again. "Oh, I'm so happy for you, Nadir. When are you getting married?" 

We all laughed, knowing she was teasing but still having fun entertaining the thought. Personally, though, I was having more fun watching how flustered my friend was getting as he was questioned; I could see the tips of his ears turning pink and heard him starting to stumble over his words. As much as it was fun to watch, there was a genuine smile on my face as I realized how happy he was. I was glad to see him simply enjoying his life even more with Adele. I was pleased that he finally had that special someone to enjoy his time with. 

As the playful interrogation ended, Nadir turned to me with an accusing glare. "You have been uncharacteristically quiet. Why?" he asked. 

"Well, I have my answers to all the questions that were just asked. And..." I said, trailing off when my name was announced by the band. "I have to go play the violin for my son and daughter-in-law's first dance. Do excuse me." 

I laughed to myself as I turned to walk over to the band, the confused look of my friends proving to be very amusing. Nadir was the only one that knew that I played the violin, so I knew, or at least hoped, that the others would enjoy it. 

Taking my place with the band, I picked up my violin and set it on my shoulder, taking a moment to make sure it was tuned as Gustave and Lara walked out onto the dance floor together. I gave them a smile and a nod as I leaned my chin on the violin and set my bow to the strings, starting to play a composition I had written back on Coney Island. A waltz, a song meant to be danced to as slowly and intimately as the new bride and groom were dancing just in front of me. For a time, I had thought it would serve beautifully as the song for the first dance that I would share with Christine at our own wedding, but if I couldn't have that, I was glad that our son could. 

I couldn't help but smile as I watched the newlyweds slowly sway back and forth to the music I was playing. On occasion, they would change a few words - quiet ones, meant for only them to hear - before laughing together and going back to dancing in silence. I could tell Lara was using their height difference to her advantage, as she had tucked her head under her husband's chin to rest against his chest. Not that Gustave minded; I could tell from the smile on his face, one that I knew so well, that to him, he had found his perfect world. He held her so tightly yet so gently at the same time, knowing that this was the first day of the rest of his life dancing with her. 

Turning my head, I smiled over at my friends, who were standing a few feet away to watch. While Philippe was mainly watching the dance, I noticed that Maddie was watching me, a dumbfounded look on her face now that she had discovered my other talent as a violinist. I could tell from the gleam in her eyes that I was going to be asked to play a lot more at home. 

The song soon came to an end, Gustave twirling Lara around with a laugh before pulling her into a kiss. It was then that the attention turned back to me as people started to applaud after my performance. I took a slight bow, then went to set my violin down, only to look up when I heard someone call for an encore with others echoing his sentiments. 

"No, I really shouldn't," I insisted, only to be met by more requests for an encore, including from Gustave and Lara. 

The one comment that caught my attention, however, was from my ever so kind best friend. "He can't play like he used to. Maybe that's the only song he can still play," Nadir said, smirking at me as he got the people around him to laugh. 

Jaw clenched, I grabbed my violin again and walked right over to our group of friends to stand in front of Nadir. Setting the instrument on my shoulder, I started to play the fast-paced song I recalled hearing at the New Year's masquerade ball that had been thrown at the Opera House countless years ago. I enjoyed getting to throw Nadir's comment back in his face, laughing as I walked away after watching his smug smirk disappear to be replaced by a look of amazement. A rare expression from when it came to me, so I was enjoying it while it lasted. 

The guests quickly flooded the dance floor, keeping up with the quick pace of the song. As I stood at the side, I found my foot tapping to keep time, but also to make an attempt at dancing with no partner. That issue was quickly resolved, though, when Lizzie ran over to me. 

"I want to dance with you, Uncle Erik," she said, quickly starting to bounce and move her feet randomly to the music. 

I laughed as she grinned up at me. "Well then, dance with me," I said, striding along as I played while my goddaughter giggled and twirled around me as she made an effort to mimic my nonsensical footwork. 

As the two of us danced, I brought the song to a close and lowered my violin before I tried to catch my breath. I took a bow as the guests applauded, then set my violin down and pulled out my handkerchief to wipe away the sweat on my bowling that had formed as I played and danced. I looked down then as Lizzie tugged on the leg of my trousers. "Yes, princess?" I asked, 

"You broke this," she said softly, gesturing to my bow, where a few strings had popped off during my performance. 

"Oh, that's alright. It happens sometimes," I replied, kneeling to give her a kiss. "Thank you for dancing with me. We'll have to do it again tonight." 

She smiled wide and nodded, wrapping her arms around my neck. "Can we go see Mommy and Daddy?" 

"Yes, of course." I stood up with her in my arms and carried her over to her parents, handing her over to Maddie. "I'm going to have to play my violin more often, aren't I?" 

"Obviously! Why have you never shown us your talent?!" Maddie demanded, emphasizing her point by smacking my arm. 

"It just never came up, that's all," I said in my defence. "I will play for you all more now, I promise. For now, I need to get myself a drink of water and sit back to catch my breath. You three go out to the dance floor," I said, giving my goddaughter another kiss before walking back to my seat. 

I got a glass of water from one of the servers and was mid-sip when I was grabbed and yanked by the arm. "What in the-" 

"Erik, come dance with me!" Lara said with a giggle, turning me around and tugging me again. 

"Lara, dear, I'm still trying to relax after my performance," I replied, only to be pulled forward once more. 

"It's a slow dance, you'll be fine," she said, giving me a pleading look. "Please, Erik?" 

I sighed, hating to say no to her, and on her wedding day no less. "Yes, okay, let's go." I set my glass down and let her take my arm as we walked out to the dance floor. Smiling at her, I gently pulled her into my arms, taking one of her hands in mine and setting the other on the small of her back as we fell into step with the dance. 

"Why were you so adamant about pulling me out here to dance, hm?" I asked her. 

"Well, for one, I wanted to see you dance! I figure you could, but I wanted proof, especially after I saw you skipping around with Lizzie while you were playing your violin for us," Lara replied. "Which was incredible, by the way. You're an amazing violinist. Do your talents never end?" 

I laughed quietly at the question. "Yes, yes they do. Nadir could tell you many skills and talents that I do _not_ possess," I said. "But you said 'for one'. What's the other reason?" 

"You're another father to me now, Erik. Now it's official, but you've been like a father for so long. I can't tell you how much that means to me. How could I not dance with you tonight, at my wedding?" 

A warm smile formed on my face as I pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'm glad I could do that for you, dear," I said, setting my chin on top of her head. 

As we danced, I heard Lara laughing quietly. "Erik, look," she said. 

Turning my head to look in the direction that she was pointing, I couldn't help but chuckle when I saw Nadir and Adele on the dance floor, the latter giving her partner a short lesson on where to set his hands while they danced. "God, he's so awkward," I said. 

"I think it's sweet. He really is fond of her, isn't he?" Lara asked. 

"I believe he is, yes. I believe he's just hesitant and a bit sheepish because it's been so long since he's had a committed relationship. His wife died years ago and since then, he hasn't had or wanted such an intimate relationship. That's not to say his grief is any less prevalent, but he's finally found the person who can help him. I really am happy for him." 

"I am too. It really is nice to see him so happy. He deserves it." 

I nodded. "He does. As much as we pester each other, I want the best for him and that seems to have happened," I said. "As awkward as he is in public with her, that smile on his face has yet to fade." 

"I think that's a common theme tonight. Gustave and I certainly haven't stopped smiling, and I've noticed that you haven't either," Lara said, pausing our dance for a moment to stand on the tips of her toes and press a kiss to my cheek. "You've truly helped make this night an incredible one. Thank you, Erik." 

"It's been a pleasure," I replied, smiling as we started to dance again and I twirled her around just as the music came to an end. I opened my mouth to thank her for the dance, only to frown when I heard her gasp, followed by her hitting my arm repeatedly. "What, Lara, what is it?" 

"Look, look," Lara replied, once again turning my attention to where Nadir and Adele stood. Now, though, I smiled wide when I saw them sharing a kiss, Nadir holding her even closer to him than he had been while they were dancing. 

"And to think he wanted to ignore her sentiments," I teased, quickly starting to laugh along with Lara. 

"I'll bet he's happy he didn't." She smiled at the new couple for another moment, but her eyes lit up as the music started again at a much faster tempo. "Erik, come on! Let's dance, these fast dances are always so fun!" she exclaimed, grabbing my hands in hers. 

Knowing better than to fight with her on the matter, I nodded and let her pull me into step with the dance. The two of us joined the other dancers in a mad shuffle of feet and the skirts of gowns, with me being especially careful to not step on her toes. About halfway through the song, I could tell that my energy had been drained - another telltale sign of my age that I needed to come to terms with - and admitted that to Lara, so the two of us walked to the sidelines, where I pushed Gustave towards her. 

"Go finish this dance with your wife,” I said. 

"No, Papa, you should dance with her!" Gustave replied. 

"I just did, but I need to catch my-" I began, only to frown as the song ended. "Well, now you wasted a song. That aside, it's your wedding! I shouldn't be dancing all night with _your_ wife at _your_ wedding! There is no argument, now go and dance!" 

He glared at me, but as his wife tugged him by the arm, a smile quickly replaced that expression and he hurried off with her. I shook my head fondly as I turned to sit down, only to get pulled out to dance again. Turning around, I found Maddie smiling back at me. 

"I don't want to steal you away from your husband," I said as I set my hand on the small of her back and started to dance with her. 

"Oh, Charles won't mind," she said with a scoff. "Plus, he's not a big dancer anyway." 

"Well, neither am I, but here we are." 

"That's nonsense. I saw your fancy footwork with my daughter and with Lara just now. You enjoy dancing and you're good at it, so now you'll dance with me too."

"Alright, alright," I said with a laugh, unable to keep a smile off of my face when I saw how Maddie was smiling up at me. As we danced, I turned my head and found Gustave and Lara just a few feet away. Looking at my son dancing with the love of his life, I knew that, for once, I had done something right. He had everything I could never have, and that was all I could want for him. 


	26. Now Go and Dance (Part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> second and final part of the wedding reception!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updated 01-24-21

_**SEPTEMBER 1919** _

_**ERIK** _

As I danced to the last few notes of the song with Madeleine, pressing a kiss to her knuckles as it concluded, I couldn’t help but frown and turn my head when I heard a conversation some of Lara’s relatives were having.

“You know, I heard the rumours but I never thought they’d be true," said one while glaring over at Gustave, who was having a conversation with Lizzie.

“What rumours?” asked the other.

“Marguerite let her daughter marry an architect's boy. Look at him. How could he ever think he could marry up in this world beyond what he was born into?”

The woman she was speaking to looked genuinely shocked. “Dear God, are you serious? It’s not like Marguerite to allow something like that.”

“Apparently she tried to stop it while he was away during the war, but it clearly didn’t work. We might want to keep an extra close eye on his family standing around our tables,” she said as she gripped her handbag tighter while having the audacity to look at my family. “You never know what might happen with our purses. That boy has already weaselled his way into our family's coffers; who’s to say that the rest won’t try something?”

“Did Marguerite even think of how this will affect the rest of the family?”

The woman rolled her eyes before glaring over to Marguerite and Phillipe. “Obviously not. Oh, did I tell you what I heard about the boy’s father?"

Just as I was about to walk over to them, teeth gritted and fists clenched, Maddie tugged me away again. “Erik, come here. I want you to meet someone,” she said. She was clueless as to just how irritable I was at the moment, but she was also missing the fact that she was stopping a fight before it began. If only I had gotten about five more seconds, then I could have had some real fun. Though, as much as I wanted to snap back at those ostentatious nobles, I was glad that Maddie had been there; between her and Nadir, they were able to keep me level-headed. Sometimes more than they even realized.

"Sorry, what were you saying, Maddie?" I asked, finally pulling my attention back to my friend.

"I have someone I want you to meet. She's lovely," Maddie replied, smiling at me as we walked.

"She?"

Maddie nodded. "I really think you two will click, Erik. Her name is Julia and she's so sweet."

I quickly caught on to exactly why she wanted to introduce me to that woman and immediately started trying to escape. "Madeleine, I don't know about that."

"Oh, come on, Erik. It will be fine! You two can talk and get to know each other, maybe share a dance or two."

"No, Madeleine, I don't want to," I replied as I pulled my hand free of hers. "I can appreciate what you're trying to do, but no." I turned to walk away, only hearing her call my name one more time as I walked right over to Nadir and Adele, who were standing only a few feet away. "Nadir, please help. Madeleine is trying to set me up with someone."

"Oh, we're moving forward with that? You should talk to Julia - I have and she's very nice," Nadir said as he glanced across the room and gave Maddie a wave.

I couldn't help but stare at him in shock, my mouth agape as I realized that he was entertaining the idea of trying to set me up as well. I noticed Adele gave him a frown, which he ignored, but she seemed to have already talked to him about it and promptly disagreed.

"Traitor," I growled as I turned my back on the pair and scanned the room for a friendly face, eventually settling on Charles. I hurried over to him, almost hiding behind him, which he immediately noticed. "Hello, Charles."

"Erik, what are you doing?" he asked, a frown on his face.

"Hiding from your wife and my best friend, who are trying to set me up with a woman to dance with and get to know," I replied, still looking around the room in case Madeleine or Nadir tracked me down.

"You should do it. It could be fun."

"Oh, it's a whole conspiracy against me tonight, isn't it?!"

"We're just trying to get you to expand your horizons, that's all!" Charles said.

"What if I don't want to? You know, it's called a comfort zone for a reason; because it's comfortable!" I retorted.

"You're supposed to get out of your comfort zone, Erik!" Charles exclaimed.

"If I'm supposed to get out of it, it wouldn't be called a comfort zone! I am not letting you and the others set me up!"

"Oh good! You found him, Charles!" I froze, cursing any god that could hear me when I saw Madeleine walk up to us, Nadir and Adele behind her and a young woman who I could only assume was Julia by her side. "Erik, this is Julia Peters."

I looked over at the woman and forced myself to smile at her. She seemed nice enough, as everyone had said; a pretty face, dark hair that reminded me of Christine's, a similar height and body shape. It wasn't the same, though; it never would be, and I didn't want a replacement.

"Hello. You must be Erik. It's nice to meet you," Julia said, reaching her hand out in anticipation of me kissing it, which confirmed my suspicions about her having some sort of noble blood.

"Miss, I am sorry for the confusion, but whatever Madeleine has promised you on my behalf is not something that I am comfortable with. I'm sorry," I said, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles for the sake of being gentlemanly despite how uncomfortable I was.

"Oh, that's alright, it-" Julia began, only to pause and shake her head as she looked at my hand and my wedding band by extension. "Of course you aren't comfortable with it. You're a widower, you mentioned it in your speech. I'm sorry for your loss."

I gave her a small smile, glad that she understood - apparently more than my friends did. "Thank you. Have a good night."

"Yes, you too."

I waited until she had moved out of earshot before I turned to my friends and looked at ten expectantly. "Well? Care to explain yourselves?"

"Erik...you could have at least danced with her once, talked a bit more," Madeleine said gently.

"I told you I didn't want to," I said firmly. "How is it that she understands that better than you do?"

"Erik, come on. We just thought you could make kind conversation with her and get a bit closer," Nadir said, insisting on pushing the matter forward.

I thought I noticed Adele squeeze his hand and whisper a few words to stop him, but I was too annoyed with all of them to care. "You should know me better. Both of you," I replied, looking between him and the woman on his arm.

"Erik, please," Adele began, reaching out and grabbing my hand, but I was quick to pull away from her grasp and walk away from them, in no mood to hear any sort of explanation.

As I walked through the tent, the head table being my final destination, I couldn't help but overhear a conversation that was remarkably similar to the one I had heard earlier, only it was between another three women who had supposedly come to the wedding in support of Lara.

"A month. That's my guess," one woman said, seemingly more interested in examining her fingernails than actually conversing.

"That's it? Not even at least two?" asked another woman.

"Are you mad? She'll figure out quickly that he can't give her what she needs! He's an architect. He'll work all day, come home dirty and exhausted, then expect her to make him dinner and clean up afterwards because he won't make enough to hire a maid!"

"You have a point. And you know that father of his won't be much help financially. You heard his speech - the house he gave them was a failed job. Failed! It makes sense if you think about it; who would want to hire a masked freak? I wonder what he hides under there."

I sighed as I watched the woman shudder at the thought of what I could look like. It was nothing new, but hearing it along with doubts that I could support my son made it sting even more. I wanted to move, to get away from their comments, but I found my feet cemented in place as if I needed to hear what else they would say.

"I've heard he's a monster in looks _and_ personality," the third woman spoke up.

"Do you think Marguerite has seen it?" the first queried, her voice suddenly hushed.

"Oh, I doubt it. If she had, she'd have dragged Lara out of there as fast as possible. I would have done that if she was my daughter, in any case."

"Never mind what he looks like. I heard the boy was born out of wedlock. The Comte's little brother said something about that. I'll bet he just forced himself on some poor woman, then took the child," the second woman added.

My heart ached to hear their words, as false as they were. True, my son had been born to unmarried parents, but he was created in an act of love, not a forced, violent one. To hear them even suggest that I had taken advantage of Christine in that way broke my heart. Not to mention the anger that was steadily rising in me, spurred on by their comments and the fact that Raoul was running around defaming his own wife's name by revealing the fact that she had laid with another man and given birth to a child because of it. I was lucky he was nowhere to be seen; if he was, he wouldn't have lived long enough to tell another person.

"Anyhow, I give her a month before she runs back to her parents," the first woman continued, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly. "People born into our lifestyle don't do well in other circumstances."

At that, thinking they were finally through with their mockery I turned to leave, only to freeze when I heard the third woman speak up again: "Well, however long she'll stay, at least they have the help around."

"And who's that?"

"That Oriental man they've allowed to be here. The fact that he was given the chance to speak is ridiculous, never mind his privilege as the best man. He should be holding a tray and serving us, not giving speeches."

"And he's here with that poor woman. He acts all sweet now, when we can see, but just wait; he'll get her alone, rob her blind, and when he gets his hands on her, he'll-"

With a growl, I turned my back and walked towards the head table, resisting the urge to strangle the three women with my bare hands. How dare they assume such a thing about Nadir all because of his race, his skin colour! I knew well that every word they said was wrong, but it still infuriated; for them to be lowering him to a simple servant who took advantage of women was the greatest insult I had ever heard, which said volumes considering the life I had lived.

My fists were still clenched as I approached the head table, but my frown only deepened when I saw Gustave sitting in his seat. "What are you doing here?" I asked as I walked over to him.

"Is the night almost over? I'm exhausted," he replied, rubbing his eyes as he spoke. “I want to leave and sleep, where’s Lara?”

I chuckled to myself. “You won’t be sleeping tonight, Gustave. You won’t want to, she won’t let you, a combination thereof.”

“What do you mean she won’t let me? She knows how I get when I’m tired.”

“As do I, but believe me, you won’t be all grumpy and annoyed after tonight, believe me.”

“Good lord, you are so cryptic some- oh,” Gustave said, his eyes widening slightly as he finally clued in to what I was hinting at, then laughed awkwardly as he ran his fingers through his hair. “R-right.”

“You’re lucky you’re already married.”

“Thank you for that.”

“Now do you understand?” I asked.

“Yes, I understand. I suppose that would happen tonight, wouldn’t it?” my son replied.

“Now that I would know for certain, but I have been made aware that that is the procedure,” I said.

Gustave laughed quietly. “The procedure? How delicately put,” he said.

“Well, how else would you have me put it at such a public gathering?” I retorted with a roll of my eyes.

“I don't know! Procedure just makes it sound so...cold, I suppose.”

“Not the intention.”

“I know it wasn’t, I’m just saying,” Gustave replied. “I don't know how else you’d put it, though. I know you and I know you’re not going to just flat out say it.”

“Not on my life,” I said with a shake of my head.

“I know, I know. I’m sort of appreciative, honestly, I don't know how I’d feel about you actually saying anything flat out,” Gustave said.

“Well, it’s a good thing that it won’t happen.”

My son nodded, laughing quietly as he looked over at me. “Indeed. But now you’ve clued me in about my own wedding night, so that’s...good, I suppose,” he said. “Do you really think I won’t sleep at all? Not even a little?”

I paused for a moment to phrase a question to help my son finally understand how his wedding night was going to go in a somewhat delicate manner. “Do you two have a hotel for the night? Or are you going right to the train station?” I eventually asked.

“We booked a hotel room,” he replied, a confused look on his face.

“You’ll sleep on the train,” I said with a nod.

“Okay, noted. You seem rather confident about that notion.”

“Do you really want to be asking that question?”

“Do I not want to be asking that?”

“No, you really don't,” I replied.

“Why not? Would it just embarrass you?” Gustave asked, a smug grin on his face.

I rolled my eyes. “Gustave, I am not above telling embarrassing stories, but there is still a crowd here tonight and I am more than capable of getting their attention.”

He immediately flinched and shook his head. “Okay, don't do that. The subject we’re discussing is a rather delicate one.”

“Did you hurt yourself with that flinch?” I asked with a chuckle.

“No, no, I’m fine, thank you very much,” he replied. “No stories necessary, I know you have at least some authority on the subject.”

“Your existence would be questionable otherwise,” I pointed out.

“Very true,” Gustave said with a nod. “You know, now that you’ve brought up the inevitable events of later this evening, I find myself a bit nervous thinking about it.”

I reached over and set my hand on his shoulder. “You will be fine. If those few times I nearly caught you two mean anything, you have nothing to worry about.”

“Nearly is the key word there, you know.”

“I know that.”

“So nothing actually happened. Which gives me cause to worry,” Gustave replied.

“There is nothing for you to worry about, honestly.”

“It’s sort of a big step, I’m going to be a tad nervous.”

“And so will she. Just don't overthink.”

Gustave simply gave me an unimpressed look. “I’m your son. I believe it is built into my genetics to do that,” he said.

“I know that, which is why I’m telling you to try not to. It won’t help you in the actual moment if you’re shaking in your boots,” I replied.

“You know, I think we can both agree that this topic isn’t an enjoyable one for either of us.”

“It’s not, but I also am trying my best to be a good father and help you when you’re nervous about something like this. Mostly because I don't want to be at home and get a distressed phone call from you in the middle of the night when things aren’t going well.” What I meant by that, I couldn’t really say, but if I could manage, I’d like to avoid getting a panicked phone call in the middle of the night from my son on his wedding night.

“That is a far cry from what would happen,” he said.

“Depending on your desperation if things aren’t going well, I wouldn’t write it off completely.”

My son rolled his eyes. “I am not completely helpless without you, believe it or not.”

“I know you’re not, but nerves make things difficult,” I replied.

“I cannot believe we are still walking about this,” Gustave sighed.

“Neither can I, quite honestly,” I said with a nod.

“Here’s a fantastical idea. We should stop.”

“Good plan,” I replied. “So let’s go back to your original point instead about the fact that you’re tired; Gustave, this is your wedding. Enjoy yourself until the moment it's over. You won't want to look back and have the memory of sitting at the table for most of the night."

"Well, from the looks of things, you aren't in the best shape either."

I sighed, vouching to keep the gossip I had heard to myself despite how much it was eating away at me. "Yes, well, I'm a bit irritated with my friends. They tried to set me up with a lady to dance with and 'get to know'."

"Oh, dear. How did that go?" Gustave asked with a quiet laugh.

"I politely apologized on their behalf for leading her on and told her I was uncomfortable with it," I explained. "I never intended to dance with her from the start."

"Well, I could have told them that," Gustave said. "Did she seem disappointed?"

"She understood more than they did! She recalled me saying your mother had died and understood why I was uncomfortable getting to know another woman. We said our goodbyes and that was that."

"I'm sure they didn't mean any harm, Papa."

"Yes, I know they didn't, Getting me out of my 'comfort zone,' Charles said," I said with a baffled look.

Gustave nodded. "I understand where you're coming from Papa, but someone once told me that a sheltered life is no life to lead," he said, referencing the words I had said to him so many times before.

I frowned as he said it. "Are you trying to say I should have danced with her and gotten to know her better?"

"I'm not outright saying it. I know your reasons for declining and respect them. Still, I may be implying that I think you could get out more and meet some new people. I understand if you don't want to, but you could make a new friend potentially. No one is saying you have to court anyone, Papa; our family is perfect, but I just want you to be happy," Gustave explained.

"I'm at my son's wedding. How could I not be happy?" Even as I said it, though, I knew my irritation and discomfort were blatantly obvious; I was going between fiddling with my ring to reaching up to the collar of my shirt to look for the chain with Christine's ring, despite knowing that it wasn't there.

My son had clearly noticed because when I looked back at him, he was pulling the chain and ring out from the collar of his shirt. "I noticed that it looks like something was filed off of the inside. Writing of some sort," he observed as he turned the ring over in his fingers to look at it.

"Yes, there was. _Little Lotte, 1896._ His name for her and the year they married," I said with a nod. "I wanted to keep the ring, but not that reminder of him and what he had done, so I filed the inscription away."

"Understandable." At that, Gustave took my hand and gently set the chain and ring in my palm. "This was a great help, Papa. It was nice to have her with me today, but you need Mother right now. I can tell."

I gave him a small smile as I slipped the chain over my head and tucked it into my collar again. Looking up, I raised a brow when I saw my friends walking over, looking rather sheepish. "Hello," I said as they finally reached the table.

"We're very sorry, Erik. You said you were uncomfortable and we should have listened," Maddie said, looking at me with a hesitant smile.

"We should have respected your wishes," Adele added. I honestly hadn't expected her to apologize after she had tried to stop Nadir, but I still appreciated it.

"It's alright," I said with a nod. "I was very sensitive and overreacted a bit. All is forgiven."

"It isn't the first time and it won't be the last," Nadir said, only to wince and turn his head when Adele pinched his arm. "I'm kidding, for the record."

I laughed at the interchange and nodded. "I know you are. Still, thank you for that, Adele. Perhaps you'll knock some sense into him."

At that moment, Lara walked over to all of us with Lizzie in her arms. "Someone is requesting a dance from her godfather," she said, smiling over at me.

"Please, Uncle Erik?" Lizzie asked. "You said we would dance again."

"I did say that, didn't I?" I said, still hesitating for a moment before shoving my own feelings aside and getting to my feet. "You are the one lady tonight who I will never refuse to dance with, come on."

With a squeal that dissolved into giggles, Lizzie leaned towards me and kissed my cheek as I took her from Lara and whisked her off to the dance floor, our friends trailing behind us. "Can I stand on your feet to dance, Uncle Erik? I danced with Gustave like that."

"Yes, I think that's a good idea," I said, setting her down on the ground and holding her little hands in mine as she stepped on top of my feet. She was a small girl, her weight slight; everything about her pointed to her being just like her mother more and more every day.

I kept her hands held in mine as we slowly started to sway back and forth to the music. Our height difference was laughable as we danced and I had to bend over quite a bit to even hold her hands. Even though I knew my back would ache the next morning, the smile on my goddaughter's face made it well worth it. And looking up at my son and daughter-in-law, watching them smiling wide as they danced together, I knew that the night had been even more perfect than they could have ever hoped for, and for me, that made every incident that night worth it.

* * *

The night flew by after that and before I knew it, the guests had gone home and it was only myself, the Chagnys, Nadir and Adele left to say our goodbyes to the bride and groom before they left for their honeymoon. I hung back as everyone else said goodbye, shuffling my feet awkwardly as I waited, but finally looked up as I noticed Philippe and Marguerite walk away. I smiled at Gustave as I walked up and gave him a tight hug.

"Have fun, my boy. Please be safe while you're away," I said. The last time I had seen him off when he was leaving for a faraway destination was when he had been deployed for the war, so I was battling with keeping my own anxiety at bay as I thought about letting him go again.

"Yes, I know. We'll be safe, I promise," Gustave replied, leaning back to smile at me. "We'll bring you back a little something. A trinket from Italy."

"Gustave, you've just got me a cat. You don't need to get me something else," I said with a laugh. "Hearing your stories will be good enough for me. Not to mention that I lived in Italy for three years. I know the country well."

"That's why I'm excited to go - to see the country you lived in!" Gustave said with a wide smile. "Do you know if the family you lived with is still there? Perhaps we could try and reconnect with them."

A smile crossed my face at the idea; to think of my son and the family of Giovanni, the only father I had ever known, reuniting with common stories was a pleasant thought, but I knew that it wasn't possible. "As lovely as that would be, I haven't heard from the family since I was fifteen; I wouldn't be able to tell you where to start. Just go and enjoy the weather, enjoy the history of the country."

"Oh, we certainly will. I can't wait to see everything," Lara said as she walked over to give me a tight hug.

"Yes, enjoy your visit. You'll love it, Lara, the country is just beautiful," I said.

"Do you have any suggestions for what we should try and see?"

"Well, I think the Colosseum is a given when you're in Rome, but visit the Villa Medici. It's a palace, but it has long been a school for musicians, artists, and architects. I had hoped to study there as a younger man, but my mother was far from keen on the idea and the opportunity never arose again. Go see it, though; the architecture and the history of it all are stunning."

"In that case, we will be certain to visit and tell you all about it," Gustave said with a smile. "Take care of little Ayesha while we're gone. Don't let Sasha get too jealous."

I scoffed at the remark. "Have you met Sasha? She'll be jealous any which way I go about introducing the two of them to each other."

"Well, have fun with the two of them. And keep an eye on the new lovebirds," Lara said, gesturing to Nadir and Adele

"Yes, I'll make sure they behave," I replied, laughing as I watched Nadir shake his head at the remark to brush it off, though the faint blush on his cheeks gave away his embarrassment.

"You two had better be off. You wouldn't want to be late to catch your train in the morning because you were up too late," Adele said as she smiled at the couple and gave them a knowing wink. "Go on. Enjoy your trip."

"We will. Thank you," Gustave replied with a laugh before he gave me another hug. "Goodbye, Papa. We'll see you soon."

I nodded as I pressed a kiss to his temple. "I'll see you when you get home. I love you."

"I love you too, Papa."

And with that, they were off, hurrying down the path hand in hand to where their carriage awaited to bring them to their hotel for the night. It was then that it seemed to click; my son was married. The prospect of that much time has gone by, not to mention the sudden ache in my heart at the thought that Christine hadn't been there to see it all made for a vicious mix of emotions running through me.

My anxiousness must have been obvious, as I turned my head and snapped out of my own thoughts when Nadir set his hand on my back. "Don't think about it too much, Erik," he said. "Look to the horizon; new memories with your daughter-in-law. Grandchildren. A lot of beautiful things are going to come from this."

"I know, and I look forward to it. It's just hard to watch him go," I said with a sigh, fidgeting with my ring as I forced myself to smile at my friend. "But I'm happy for him."

"I know you are. We all are. Now, do you want to grab your new little kitten and we'll share a taxi with you? Adele and I are going to head home as well," Nadir said.

"Eager to get back, are you?" I teased. I laughed when I ended up getting punched in the arm - which I honestly deserved - but that quickly became a gasp when I heard what he muttered about me in Persian under his breath. "Well, that was rude."

"Stop asking for it, then. Grab your cat and let's go."

"Fine, fine," I replied, mumbling an equally rude remark in French as I turned to pick up Ayesha out of her little gift box.

Nadir turned to me and shot me a glare. "If I understood that, I'd kill you."

"Keep dreaming, Daroga."

* * *

I opened the front door to my house and stepped inside, barely having time to close it again before Sasha barreled down the stairs to greet me at the door. "Yes, hello," I said, laughing as I felt the kitten I was holding scramble up my chest to tuck herself into the crook of my neck, clearly not too pleased with Sasha's barking.

I finally got the dog to quiet down as I bent down to let her inspect the kitten, only to laugh when she sniffed her and turned her nose up. "Get used to her, Sasha. She's your new housemate."

As Sasha scurried off to the kitchen, I slipped my shoes off and stood in the foyer for a moment to take in my new situation; the same eerie silence I had hated with a passion when Gustave was deployed had returned, albeit under more joyous circumstances. I sighed, trying not to let melancholy set in. The night had been incredible and my son was married to the love of his life. There was no reason to be sad, really, and yet, I found myself digging up excuses for the sadness I was feeling.

I walked up the stairs, intending to get Ayesha settled for the night and getting the rest I needed, but I found myself unable to walk past my son's room without stepping inside. I turned on the lamp on his nightstand and set Ayesha on the bed, watching as she walked to the headboard and curled up on the pillow. I looked around the room then, my attention immediately drawn to his bookshelf. I admired the collection he had built up over the years as I ran my fingers along their spines. He had lost his mind when he discovered Sherlock Holmes, collecting every one of the books he could get his hands on. _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_ had always interested him, as had _Les Misérables._ He had finally accomplished his goal of completing it, even if that had entailed him putting it down and returning to it three times in total. Lara and I, on the other hand, had raced to finish; she won by two chapters and had yet to let me forget it. Gustave had considered joining us but bowed out within the hour when he saw the page count of the book. Besides that, though, classical romances had always intrigued him; the likes of _Pride and Prejudice, Anna Karenina, and Wuthering Heights._ Yet another contrast between him and his wife; while he loved the classic tales of love, Lara adored tales of adventure like _The Three Musketeers_ and _Heart of Darkness._ Opposites truly did attract in their case.

As I looked at his books, one, in particular, caught my attention. A well-worn one that had lost its spine, but I knew right away which one it was before I pulled it off of the shelf. _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz;_ a classic tale that I had come to love after reading it to Gustave time and time again, its magic and whimsy having grown on me over the years.

Gingerly, I set it back on the shelf to not damage it further, then turned my head to look around the room as a whole, still full of his belongings despite the packing we'd already done. I saw Gustave's desk covered in a smattering of papers; most definitely my son. On top of his chest of drawers sat the music box that I had made for him back on Coney Island, still in working order and a favourite of Lizzie's. Framed photographs of William, Christine, and Lara, as well as one of Gustave and myself, sat beside the music box. As I walked over to the bed to sit with Ayesha, I saw the famed original drafts of the Opera House, the Palais Garnier, that hung above it, signed by none other than Charles Garnier. Gustave had been practically giddy when he had found them, which I had come to possess after befriending Garnier himself once I had returned to Paris as a younger man, and had insisted on framing and hanging them. I certainly couldn't object; the Opera House was a marvellous creation, even if it could have been much more magnificent had I been available to offer my input.

Before I sat down, I turned to look at the wall next to the bed and ran my fingers over the white stars and comets that Gustave and I had painted together years ago. For us, though, even such a small task like that was...messy.

_~_

_"I finished the stencils for the stars the other day, and I threw a few comets in there as well, so we can finally get to painting," I said as I set up a small bowl of white paint and passed it to Gustave. "Do you know how you'd like it to look so we have an idea?"_

_"Not really. I just know I want them to be all over this part of the wall," Gustave replied, giving me a toothy grin._

_"Well, that can certainly be arranged. Let's get started."_

_I turned to pick up my own bowl of paint, then selected a stencil to use, but by the time I turned back, my eyes went wide as I looked at my son. He had dragged over the chair from his desk and was standing on it to reach higher up on the wall. Immediately seeing how that could go wrong, I set my paint supplies down and put my hands on his waist to hold him steady. He seemingly didn't understand why I was doing that because he turned to give me a confused look._

_"Papa, if you're holding onto me, only one of us will be working and this is going to take forever," he said._

_"I don't want you to fall and hurt yourself. Standing on a chair is far from the safest option to boost yourself up so you can paint," I replied._

_"I promise I'm being careful."_

_"I know you are, but I still don't want you to fall. This is supposed to end well, not with a trip to the doctor."_

_"And this was supposed to be something fun for both of us. How are you supposed to have fun and worry at the same time?" he asked. The mildly concerned look on his face told me, plain and simple, that he was genuinely worried about me not enjoying what we were doing together and I hated to see that._

_I sighed, wanting to make things right as fast as possible. "Do you promise you'll be very careful if I let go?" I asked him._

_"I promise," Gustave replied with a firm nod._

_"Okay, okay. I'll let go and help," I said, nodding back at him._

_His eyes lit up and he gave me a quick hug before he turned back to the star he'd been painting. "Paint a shooting star, Papa," he requested._

_"Alright, a shooting star it is. Just be careful," I said as I grabbed the appropriate stencil to start painting a comet._

_"There's nothing to worry about, Papa."_

_"I know I'm being overly cautious, but I'm still new to this whole business of being a father. I'm going to be nervous."_

_"And I'm telling you not to be."_

_"Alright, I will try and stop. Just paint that star and I'll start on the comet," I said, throwing my hands up in surrender for a moment before I started to paint._

_Hardly any time had passed when I glanced back up and felt my breath catch in my throat when I saw Gustave on the edge of the chair, standing on the tips of his toes to reach higher up. I immediately jumped up and set my hands on his waist again, making him frown at me._

_"You said you'd stop," he said._

_"And you said you would be careful," I retorted._

_"I am being careful, Papa, what do you mean?" Gustave asked._

_"Going on your tiptoes on the edge of a chair is not what I would call careful," I pointed out._

_"Papa, I can't reach if I'm not on my tiptoes."_

_"I'm taller than you. Need be, I can get the ones up there."_

_"But I want to do it," Gustave protested._

_"Don't put yourself in potentially harmful situations in the name of such a simple thing," I said with a quiet sigh. The debate was going on for much longer than I had anticipated._

_I watched the boy as he thought for a moment, trying to find a solution to our dilemma. Finally, though, an idea dawned on him: "What if you put me on your shoulders? That's safer than my tiptoes, isn't it?"_

_Certainly not the suggestion I had expected him to make. "Gustave, I appreciate that you think that I have the upper body strength to do that," I said, laughing a bit at the assumption._

_"You are strong, Papa. I think you can do it," he replied. "I'm not that heavy."_

_"I honestly believe your idea to be riskier than what you're doing right now."_

_"Really?"_

_"Yes, so I'll let your current method continue," I sighed._

_The boy nodded. "Okay. I'll be careful, I promise," he said._

_"I would appreciate that for the wellbeing of us both," I replied._

_"I will be, don't worry. Keep painting your star." With a nod, I carefully let go of his waist and crouched down to resume the painting I was doing before, all while watching him out of the corner of my eye._

_My efforts, however, did not go unnoticed: "I can see you trying to watch me and not panic."_

_"I am not trying to do anything," I replied as I worked._

_"It's not good to lie, Papa," Gustave said, looking at me with a frown._

_"You have a point there, but I'm not lying, so it's fine."_

_"That makes two."_

_"Okay, so maybe I am worried, but I want you to be safe. I'm your father, that's my job, so just leave me be," I said, getting to my feet and tapping his nose with a paintbrush, a smear of white paint left in its wake._

_He looked at me in shock, but that quickly faded into a mischievous smile. "You do know what this means, don't you?" he asked._

_"What does it mean?" I inquired, a smirk on my face as I noticed the sparkle in his eyes while we toyed with each other._

_"This means war!"_

_My eyes went wide and I stumbled back when he hopped off his chair and stepped towards me, brandishing his paintbrush. "Oh no, not war!"_

_"You fired the first shot!" Gustave exclaimed, giggling through his words._

_"That doesn't mean I wanted it to escalate!" I retorted. "Gustave, come on, we'll get paint everywhere."_

_"Are you afraid?" he taunted, the same smug grin glued to his face._

_"Of getting paint everywhere, yes. Of you coming at me with a paintbrush? Not so much," I said,g glancing behind me as he backed me into a corner._

_"Oh really? Because it sounds like you're afraid of both," Gustave replied, waving his paintbrush in an attempt to threaten me._

_"No, I'm not," I repeated. "Now, why don't we go back to peacefully painting like we were before, hm? What do you think?"_

_Instead of giving me a verbal response, Gustave came right up to me and smeared paint on my unmasked cheek. I couldn't help but gasp which, in turn, made him giggle._

_"Oh,_ **_now_ ** _it's war," I said, tickling his side so I could rush past him to retrieve my own paintbrush and retaliate._

~

I laughed quietly to myself as I looked at the splatters of paint all over the walls. He had insisted that it not be painted over, as he adored the memories associated with them. Sitting down on the bed, I scratched Ayesha behind the ears as I reflected on those memories from when Gustave was young and realizing that it truly was the end of an era. It almost felt like my duty as a parent was done; my son had gotten married and would be moving out to start a family of his own. My nest was empty, as people said. I no longer had anyone to hurry out of bed in the morning because he was late for school; I wouldn’t have to remind him a hundred times a day to make his bed; I wouldn’t be responsible for making sure his tie was straight, that his hair wasn’t sticking up in a million different directions. All of that was his responsibility now. My son, my little boy - _mio soldatino -_ had become a young man...when had that happened?

Another thing that only added to that feeling of shock was the prospect of becoming a grandfather. That could become a reality sooner than later; Lara could be pregnant by the time they returned home and they could have a son or daughter in nine months' time. My son could be a father himself; his child could be calling me Grandpa in just over a year. But I wouldn't go by Grandpa if and when that happened, and I knew that for certain; years ago, Giovanni had told me he wanted me to take the title of Nonno should I ever have a grandchild. He had always wanted grandchildren but had yet to experience it at that point, so I believed he wanted to live vicariously through me. I was not going to deny him that request, so if and when a grandchild arrived, Nonno was to be my title.

It pained me even more that Christine hadn’t been able to watch our son grow up into the incredible young man that he had become. She would have been so proud to watch him go off to secondary school, she would have cheered the loudest after he performed her famous aria from _Hannibal._ She would have given him the tightest hug when he was deployed and an even tighter one when he returned. At the wedding, she would have cried...she would have adored Lara. And yet, none of that was possible thanks to me and my inability to keep my mouth shut. It was a miracle that I hadn't managed to make a mess of Gustave's relationship with Lara in the same way.

Sasha hopping up onto the bed snapped me out of my self-deprecating thoughts, focusing instead on the dog's attempt to acquaint herself with the kitten cuddled up beside me. Sasha's first instinct was to wedge her snout between my hand and Ayesha, demanding that I scratch her behind the ears instead.

"You can't be jealous, Sasha. You two have to get along. I won't forget about you," I said, giving her the scratches that she was demanding. I watched her as she nudged the kitten with her nose, only for Ayesha to hiss and bat her nose with her paw, which made Sasha growl in response. I was quick to tell her off and set the kitten on my lap, but it was then that everything seemed to fall into place.

This was a new life that I was to be the guardian over. Ayesha’s presence helped me realize that my role as a father would never end. Gustave was an adult and would need guidance - that wasn’t to say that I really knew what it meant to be an adult, but I could surely provide some help. No matter how old a child got, they would never stop needing their father. Nadir’s words from earlier in the night echoed in my mind: _"Look to the horizon; new memories with your daughter-in-law. Grandchildren. A lot of beautiful things are going to come from this."_ Only then did I recognize the truth in that statement. Lara had become just like a second child to me; the daughter that I never had but wished I did have. She had filled part of the hole in my heart, making it the slightest bit easier to cope without Christine. Not to mention the prospect of grandchildren; as old as it made me feel, it was incredible to think that Gustave could be a papa just as I was. The thoughts brought a new smile to my face at that moment. There was still so much to come, and I knew that my tears over the past wouldn’t be able to stop my smile for the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * While this fic is heavily based on Phantom by Susan Kay and, in that novel, Erik did assist in the construction of the Palais Garnier, his age as it stands in Phantom did not work with our timeline. Therefore, dates were changed and moved up in time, so in our timeline, Erik would not have returned to Paris from Persia and the rest of his travels, but we compensated with the idea of him having befriended Garnier once he returned.


	27. What Do You Mean?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things go wrong for the newlyweds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edited 01-25-21

**_OCTOBER 1919_ **

**_LARA_ **

I was getting my earrings at my vanity table when I felt the pain in my stomach again. I’d been later than usual that month and it hurt a bit more than normal, but it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. I couldn’t let it bother me though; we were going to be spending time with Erik that night and I would not allow myself to put a damper on what he had planned. It was the first time Gustave and I had gone over there for a proper visit since we had returned home from our honeymoon, after all. 

“Are you ready, love?” I heard Gustave ask. He had come in to check on me, which reminded me that I should have been downstairs nearly five minutes ago. “Are you alright? You seem off.”

I started to slowly get up, but I couldn’t hide my reaction to the sharp pain that stabbed my abdomen; I tried desperately not to, but I still winced. “Yes, I’ll be downstairs in a moment.”

My attempt to hide my discomfort proved to be in vain when I looked at my husband's face and saw how worried he was. Without a second thought, he was right next to me and lowering me back onto the seat in front of my vanity table. 

“Lara, what’s wrong? You’re obviously dealing with something,” he said.

“No, no. I’m sure it will pass in a little while.” The pain was already fading away as I spoke; it must have been a heavy cramp, which was nothing I hadn’t experienced before. “We told Erik we would go over there. Let’s get going.”

My answer didn’t seem to satisfy him though; the look of anxiety was enough to tell me that. “Lara, if you aren’t feeling well, maybe we shouldn’t go. Papa will understand.”

“No. We said we would be there. I’m fine, Gustave.”

“Are you sure? You don't look fine.” He was kneeling in front of me, holding my hand, so I gave it a squeeze to try and reassure him, which he returned.

“I said I am fine. Let’s go, we’re running late,” I said as I stood up again.

Gustave must have realized that there was no hope for him to win the argument, as he got up as well. “Okay, okay. If you feel like you’re getting any worse tonight, though, promise me that you will tell me.”

“Alright. I promise I will.” I took his hand and began walking downstairs. “Now come on. I’ve never been late for him before and I am not going to start now.”

“Alright, let’s go. Come on, I’ll help you get your coat and shoes on.”

“I’m not a child, dear. I don't need help,” I said, crossing my arms as we reached the landing. It was meant to show my annoyance, but the pain had returned already and I was trying to hide it.

“I know you aren’t a child, but you are in pain,” he said, which reminded me that sometimes it was irritable that he could read me like a book; it made things much more difficult. “I just want to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible.”

“I’ll be okay. Don't make a fuss.”

Once again, he seemed to have realized that I was going to be very stubborn about the entire situation. “Okay, fine. Let’s just go before I keep fretting over you and you bite my head off.”

“I’m not going to do that. I still like you too much,” I replied in an effort to lighten the mood. It seemed to have marginally worked, seeing as Gustave cracked a small smile.

“Well, that’s good. At least I still have that going for me,” he practically whispered against my lips before giving me a soft kiss.

“That and much more, my dear,” I responded in the same hushed tone before kissing him again.

He slowly wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me closer. Regardless of how gentle the movement was, the pressure being put on the small of my back was enough to cause another stab of pain. He must have felt my face tighten while trying not to wince as he pulled back and proceeded to look me up and down to try and figure out what was wrong. When he saw that there was nothing, he took my hand and went to the door. “Let’s get going, then.”

* * *

It was a beautiful evening, not a cloud in the sky; the smell of the leaves in fall was always one of my favourite things. It was warmer than it usually was around that time of year so we were able to walk to Erik’s house. The home he had gifted us was only a twenty-minute walk from his own, which made it absolutely perfect on nights like that. The thing that would have made it totally perfect was if the pain I was feeling would just go away. I was starting to suspect it was something other than my monthly cramps; it must have been some form of stomach flu or a bad reaction to something I had eaten.

We made it to Erik’s door and Gustave had already knocked. I could hear my father-in-law’s footsteps as he approached and Sasha barking at the arrival of people coming over to visit, but none of that mattered once my knees buckled. Gustave must have caught me before I hit the ground; I heard him calling my name but I couldn't respond. All I could do was think about the searing pain that cut into me like a hot knife. 

“Lara, are you okay? What are you feeling right now?” my husband asked. 

At some point, the door must have opened because I thought I was hearing Erik’s voice: “Gustave, I need you to help get her inside.” 

I didn’t see his face, as my eyes were closed tight in pain. I did, however, feel Gustave’s arm snake around my waist. “This started just before we left, Papa, but we don't know what’s going on.”

I could hear the anxiety in Erik’s voice as he spoke: “Just get her in and lay her on the couch.” 

Gustave was trying to help me stand up again but I could barely get one foot under me. “Okay. Come on, Lara. Just take your time,” he said softly. 

“At this point, it would be best if you lifted her.” Erik’s voice was louder, so he must have kneeled down to me. I felt a cool hand on my forehead and it was a welcome relief from the pulsing going on in my brain. 

I can’t remember being lifted or even the journey from the front door to the living room. The next thing I knew, though, I was on the couch and a pillow was being put under my head. 

“I told you we should have just gone to the doctor,” Gustave said as I felt his warm hand caress my cheek. The dimmer artificial light in the house was making it easier for me to open my eyes again, and when I did, I saw my husband kneeling next to me with a look that nearly broke my heart; I could tell he was worried and coming close to panic. I never wanted to be the cause of him having to go through all of those things. It didn’t feel fair for him to have to deal with it.

Erik came back into the room at that moment; I wasn’t sure where he had gone exactly, but I vaguely remembered him saying that he was going to put Sasha somewhere so that she didn’t bother me. His voice was smooth as he spoke, almost as if he was trying to stay calm for everyone, including himself: “Lara, where do you feel the most pain?”

“My stomach, it...it’s like really painful cramping,” I said, almost surprised at how weak my own voice sounded.

“Gustave, I need you to step out for a moment,” Erik said. I suppose my answer must have given him something to work with, but what that was, I did not know.

Gustave stood up quickly and turned to his father; he could see that Erik was onto something and didn’t like being left out of the loop. “Can someone please-”

“Gustave, I will explain later, but could you please listen to me now?” Erik snapped back. I’d never heard him be so short with my son before and it was quite alarming.

“Fine, fine. I’ll go wait in the kitchen.” I could hear how tense Gustave was but he knew better than to fight with Erik.

“Now, Lara, please focus on me.” Erik had kneeled down so that I wasn’t looking up at him, and I was thankful for that because my migraine was beginning to come back. “I need you to tell me exactly what has happened this morning.”

I thought back to that morning and realized that there wasn’t much to tell. “Well, I woke up and everything was fine. I had minor pain, but I didn’t think anything of it. Nothing dramatic; it didn’t last more than a few minutes.”

“Alright. Then what happened?”

“Really, not much. I hadn’t noticed much cramping or anything strange. I...I had noticed a little bit of blood, but I didn’t think anything of it.” It was quite awkward talking about that sort of thing with my father-in-law, but I did remember that he had had quite the medical knowledge at some point in his life.

“Have you felt dizzy at all?”

“Once or twice in the past couple of days, and again earlier today.” I was trying to remember more details, and then I recalled an incident from around lunch. “I was feeling quite queasy earlier as well.”

I knew that look on his face; we’d spent enough time together to know that look anywhere. He knew what was happening and was trying to figure out what to do. He put his hand on top of mine and squeezed it gently before saying, “Alright. I really think we should go to the doctor before I give you my preliminary diagnosis”

“Why? What do you think it is? Something serious?” His answer confused me; I knew that he knew what was wrong. Why wasn’t he saying anything?

“I want a professional opinion to be sure.”

“Oh. Alright. Can you get Gustave back now?” It was something serious, I could feel it. Erik was second-guessing himself, which was something he prided himself on never doing. “He’s probably driving himself mad in the kitchen.”

“On that, we can agree.” A small smile spread across his face at the thought of the fact that his son was probably pacing the floor like a madman. “Gustave, you can come back now.”

I heard rapid footsteps, and the next thing I knew, he was at my side; clearly, his time in the kitchen had done nothing to calm his nerves. 

“Are you okay, love?” he asked almost immediately.

“We’re going to the doctor’s,” I explained before feeling around me to look for something. “Can you please grab my handbag? I had it...I must have dropped it...I don't remember.”

“Lara, you didn’t bring one with you.” Gustave looked confused. He was being foolish; I knew I left the house with one. He must not have seen it as we were walking.

“No, I know I did...I just dropped it.” I tried to get up so I could look around to see if it had fallen near the couch. “Go check at the door. I might have dropped it there.”

“Lara. You didn’t have one when you left our house.” He was frustrating me by that point; how could he have not seen that I had one when I left the house?

“I know I had one…it was silver…or was it blue…I don’t know, but it fell when I got here.” I could feel my breathing pick up; I wanted to stop it but I had no control. I was looking at the ceiling one moment, then the floor, then Gustave as the room spun like a top.

“Lara, just take a deep breath for me, alright? I’m going to get her a cool cloth for her head; she can’t be walking anywhere just yet. Gustave, make sure she doesn’t pass out,” my father-in-law said. The panic was rising in his voice as well as I heard him walk faster than normal in the direction of the kitchen.

“Lara, darling, I need you to look at me. Focus your eyes on me. Stay awake. Talk to me, alright?” Gustave said. I was trying to regulate my breathing and focus on what he was saying, but multitasking was proving to be difficult. “You were reading on the couch earlier today. Tell me about the book. Explain it to me.”

“Oh, I cannot stand the main character...the name of the book is  _ Madame Bovary.  _ She’s so annoying; I hate her. The premise is so incomprehensible,” I said. 

Gustave smiled a little at my blunt statement. “Then why don't you pick something new?”

“Because I’ve never left a book incomplete,” I explained. He knew that about me, why was he asking?

Another sharp stab of pain hit my stomach but I couldn’t bring myself to acknowledge it because my comment had provided me with one of my favourite sounds in the world; Gustave’s laughter. It was enough to make me forget everything that was happening and all the fear I should have been feeling and just focus on the fact that he was there, holding my hand, and we were going to get through the current situation together. “That much is true. Why do you hate her so much?” he asked with his infamous lopsided smile that I loved so much.

“She is so obsessed with having the life of these upper-class people whom she envies to the point where it’s destroying her and her marriage,” I replied. The character was truly blind to the reality of the people she wanted to emulate. “If only she knew just how insufferable people with privilege can be.”

“Ah, I see. I can understand why you’d hate her. I think I would hate reading an entire book about her too.”

“I just hate when people don't appreciate what they have.” I raised my hand to his cheek and I realized how warm his skin was compared to my own and couldn’t help but shudder.

He must have noticed how cold I was getting because he took both of my hands in his and rubbed them together, then smiled at me in hopes that he was helping, which he undoubtedly was. “Yes, of course. I know you hate that.”

I heard footsteps come down the hall along with scampering paws rushing over to the living room. Sasha had yet to say hello and she was adamant about doing so, as she jumped to put her front paws on my leg making it easier for me to rub her head. Erik quickly shooed her away and placed a cool cloth on my forehead. 

“Just lay here for a few minutes, Lara. Keep focusing on staying awake, alright?” he said. It seemed to me that his time in the kitchen had calmed down the panic that had been rising in his voice.

“I was just telling Gustave about my new book.” Erik and I were always trading book recommendations and I had been intending to tell him about this one for quite some time. “You would hate the main character almost as much as I do.”

“Which book is it, dear?”

“ _ Madame Bovary _ .”

He must have already known it given his eye roll. “Oh, yes, I’ve read that one. I did despise her and I know why you do too.”

“I don't want to keep reading it, but I need to finish it. I don't want her to win.”

“I’m a little confused as to how she could win,” Gustave asked.

I realized that the statement must have been a tad baffling. “If I stop reading because of her she has beaten me,” I tried to explain, though even I realized that the statement made little sense. I must have clarified something for Gustave, though, as he leaned in and kissed me. When we parted he had the biggest smile on his face.

“Only you, my dear,” he said with a laugh, and the sound made me smile even more as Erik joined in.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll manage to get through it,” Erik says as he kept laughing before checking the cloth on my forehead, which had warmed up by that point. “How are you feeling now, Lara?”

“I need to use the restroom before we go to the doctor’s.” I began to push myself up to get off the couch, only to be immediately assisted by the two of them, as if I were made of glass. I didn’t mind it at the moment, though; I don’t believe I would have made it up otherwise. “If you’ll excuse me.”

“Do you want me to help you walk there?” Gustave asked, still wary of me being up on my own.

I took a few steps on my own, just as a precautionary measure before responding, “I should make it.”

“Okay. We’ll be waiting here, my dear, ” Gustave said as he finally sat down properly. I could tell that his sitting was only to reassure me; he was probably going to jump right up again and start pacing as soon as I was out of eyeshot.

I walked down the hall and stepped into the bathroom, then pressed my back to the closed door. I couldn’t get the image of Erik’s concerned face out of my head. He knew something that he wasn’t saying, he had to; I’d never seen him so scared before. The only time it even rivalled what I had just witnessed was when I found him in the study trying to fix the record player. The fear and desperation, the face of a man who had an answer to the question he was asking himself. If that was any indication of anything to come, I knew it had to be something important. The fact that he was too afraid to say anything was making me even more nervous. I suppose that the only way I was going to get my answer was to go to the doctor and I simply couldn’t go out looking the way I was. I quickly tried to wipe the dirt off the back of my dress from when I fell and was mostly successful. I attempted to fix my hair as well but realized that it was a useless endeavour.

I used the toilet and was met with another wave of painful cramps, the pain nearly making me see spots for a moment. I looked down in the toilet bowl and was absolutely horrified; there was so much blood. So much more than what I should be seeing.

Something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

I fixed my dress in a scramble as I called for Gustave.  _ This isn’t right. What is happening to me?  _ I thought. 

I heard both men running and within moments, they were at my side. Gustave went pale as a ghost when he saw the mess. I was so afraid; I didn’t know what to do, so I just held onto him. As I felt my legs going numb again, I was grateful for the fact that he was always there to catch me.

Erik didn’t even say anything for what felt like an eternity; he just stood there, looking between us and what had happened. He took a deep breath as if preparing himself to speak, then said, “We need to get to the doctor. Now.”

“Papa, what’s happening?” Gustave’s voice was shaking as he practically demanded an answer from his father.

“The doctor will explain everything better than I can and will also be more certain.” Emotions were flying across his face from one second to the next, though I couldn’t say what hurt me more; the waiting or his response: “But I cannot lie to you, my boy, I cannot lie to either of you: I...I think Lara has just miscarried.”

I believe Gustave said something. It sounded like, “What?” but I had fallen deaf to both of them. At that point, my legs truly had gone weak and I was simply on my knees, my whole body shaking.

I found my own voice only for a moment to ask the question that was burning on my tongue like a hot iron: “What do you mean? I didn’t even know I was...oh my god.” I didn’t know the true power a word had until the moment I was sitting on the bathroom floor clutching my stomach. The power to shatter me into a million pieces and send my whole life spiralling before my eyes. Gustave was whispering words in my ears that I couldn’t bear to hear. He was holding me tightly in his arms and I still felt like I had been dunked in an ice bath.

At some point, Erik must have gotten down on his knees to talk to me because the next thing I knew, he was at eye level holding my hands. “Lara, I’m not sure. Please remember that I am not a doctor. Let’s get you to the hospital so we can be sure,” he said, his voice gentle with an underlying sympathetic tone. 

At first, I didn’t know what to say. What does one do when their life has been dismantled? My only instinct was to try and pick up the pieces. “I...okay. I suppose we had better go, then.”

* * *

I don’t remember much of the trip to the hospital.

I simply recall staring at nothing in a cream-coloured waiting room where the inevitable answers to my questions would be given whether I liked them or not. I remember the sound of Gustave yelling at the doctors; I think it had something to do with the lack of speed in their work. I remember the image of Erik as he left after calming his son down; he told me to be strong, though I doubted my own capability of following his instructions. Lastly, I remember the tapping of my husband’s heel against the floor as he bounced his leg from the anxiety of the whole situation.

“Gustave, I’m worried. I hate all this waiting,” I said as I put my hand on his leg in an effort to reduce his anxiety so that the tapping would stop.

“I know you are.” He put his hand on mine to hold it, which probably brought me more comfort than it did him. “They want to be thorough, though, and make sure the results are accurate.”

“I do too. I just wish I was anywhere but here,” I said as I looked around us at all the other people waiting to see the doctors. There was just about everyone that could be thought of when one pictured such a scene, though one that stood out, in particular, was a little boy and his mother, the former’s arm in a sling. He looked so frightened as he clung to his mother that it seemed to mirror my own paranoia that I might be just as broken as his arm.

Gustave snapped me out of my trance as he told me, “Me too, love, I understand.”

“No, I don't think you do. I’ve never thought anything like this was even possible for me.” I hadn’t meant to, but I ripped my hand from his and hugged my stomach again. “This is the type of thing that happens to the people in my books, not to me, and I just don't know what I’m going to do if your father was right. I know that you are trying to be supportive and I love you for it, but you and I are not feeling the same things right now.”

“Okay, just take a deep breath,” Gustave said, clearly trying to calm me down, but I didn’t know how I could be calm in a moment like the one we found ourselves in. I hadn’t meant to snap at him but I didn’t even understand all of the emotions going through my head, so how could he claim to comprehend? “Nothing is certain until they give us the results. And no matter what we are going to go through, we will do it together, Lara, for better or worse.”

A nurse then walked in and everyone looked at her like she was the saviour come to earth. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief when she spoke: “Mister and Mrs. Destler, if you could just follow me, please.”

We followed her down a well-lit hall that was covered with posters that gave simple explanations of different ailments. I was hopeful for some reason that she was taking us to someone with my results and we’d be able to leave soon. Apparently, though, there was no such luck for me as when we finally reached the room at the end of the hall, it was yet another small waiting room.

“Another waiting room. Delightful,” Gustave sighed once the nurse left us alone.

“It’s better than the one out there,” I pointed out as I sat down. “We can talk at a normal volume without feeling like everyone can hear us.”

He shrugged before sitting down in the chair next to me. “That’s true, I suppose. How are you feeling now?”

“Still anxious,” I said as I looked down at my hands to find myself absentmindedly fidgeting.

“And physically speaking?” he asked as he took my hands in his.

I took a deep breath and put my head on his shoulder before replying: “My abdomen is hurting, but it seems to have lessened.”

“Well, that’s good. At least you’re feeling the slightest bit better,” he said as he pressed a kiss to the top of my head. Even with everything that was happening, there was a feeling of security by simply being close to him that I could not describe; it just felt like home.

“I’ll feel a lot more at ease once we are given results.”

He squeezed my hands to try and reassure me before saying, “Yes, I will too. We’ll get them soon...hopefully.”

As if on cue the door to our waiting room opened and a man in a white coat came in. “Mister and Mrs. Destler? I’m Doctor Johnson. I supervised all the tests and I have your results,” he said. 

Gustave immediately sat at full attention when the door opened and I was surprised that his leg hadn’t begun bouncing again. “And what are they?” he asked, the fear in his voice not lost on me.

“Well, they are unfortunate. There is no easy way to say this but it seems that Mrs. Destler did experience a miscarriage.” That word...that word that I couldn’t hope to escape was jabbing at me once again much harder than the pain in my abdomen ever could. How could I be feeling so much for something I hadn’t even known existed? I hadn’t gotten the chance to figure it out, to cry, to experience the joy of the possibility of having a baby, and it was already gone; I hadn’t had the opportunity to love it and it was already gone. I didn’t know what else to do, so I simply wept right there in the hospital.

“Was there any reason for it?” I heard Gustave ask. I could tell that he wanted to be upset along with me, but at least one of us had to hold it together until we got home. I was just glad it didn’t have to be me.

“We’re unsure of that, in all honesty. It could have been anything.” The doctor was proving to be useless. All he seemed to have done thus far was confirm things we already knew.

I could tell that Gustave was getting fed up as well, as he was being short with the doctor. “Right. Should we be doing anything when we get home? Just to make sure she…recovers?” he asked. 

“Keep her comfortable. No heavy lifting, nothing that will cause immense stress. Get plenty of rest, and no intimacy for at least two weeks would be my recommendation. I am truly sorry that I am the one who has to tell you this.”

“It isn’t your fault. We appreciate your help, sir. Thank you,” Gustave said, trying to wrap his arms around me as I sobbed, but I simply wasn’t having it. I didn’t care who saw me at that point; I just needed to get my emotions out of my system.

“Best of luck to you both,” was the last thing I heard the doctor say before the door shut.

We sat there for a moment with me crying and Gustave just sitting there, watching me. Without a word, he stood up and helped me to my feet. “Come on, love. Let’s get you home.” 

He gently removed my hands from my face to look me in the eyes, but I was so emotionally numb that I could only nod a reply to him. He rested his arms around my waist and held me close for a moment before whispering in my ears the words, “I’m so sorry.”

“Please take me home,” I managed to choke out. 

“Yes, okay, we’re going home. Don't worry.”

* * *

We got home to find Erik on the front porch; we’d told him to go home after taking us to the hospital but I was grateful for the fact that he hadn't listened. I didn’t even have to say a word to tell him what the verdict was and I was glad because I don’t believe I would have been able to get the words out and I didn’t want to put Gustave through the trouble of having to say them.

When we got inside, Erik took my coat as I took my shoes off. I wanted to say something about not needing help but I was too tired to get into that argument. 

“Go get her up to bed, Gustave,” he said and I immediately looked between them, refusing to move.

“I don't want to go to bed,” I said firmly. 

“Lara, the doctor told us that you need to get some rest,” Gustave said as he took my arm and tried to lead me towards the staircase.

“I don't care right now. I am not going to go upstairs to bed and just lay there being useless,” I explained as I shook my arm free. ”No, that is not what is going to happen.”

“Lara, darling, useless wouldn’t be the right word for you if you were up in bed. Your body has been through something traumatic, you need to rest and recover,” Erik tried to explain. I knew that he was trying to be helpful but sleep was the last thing on my mind.

“I have heard a lot of words today describing everything I never wanted to hear in my life, so please do not question my choice in vocabulary right now,” I said as I looked between the two of them. They should have known that my stubbornness was far more extensive than their own. “I’m not going to bed and you should both know better than to try and fight me on this.”

Gustave looked to his father, probably trying to see if he could garner some support in the effort to get me upstairs, though he wasn’t going to get any, seeing as when Erik responded, he said, “You’re right, we do know better than that. We won’t make you go to bed, then. Just...try and take it easy.”

“Thank you,” I said as I left, though I could still hear them from the kitchen.

“I’m going to head home. Make sure she rests, alright?” Erik said as he probably unhooked his jacket from the hanger.

“I will. Thank you, Papa.” Gustave replied. “Thank you for being there for us. It means a lot to us both.”

“Of course. Just call me if you need anything, and I will be here as soon as humanly possible.” There was a pause in the conversation that I could only assume was the result of a hug. “I’m so sorry this happened, Gustave. I truly am.”

“We will keep you up to date.” I could tell that Gustave was avoiding the thoughts as much as I was.

“Yes, please do. I’ll see you soon. Take care of her,” Erik said. I appreciated the sentiment, but that was the last thing I wanted at the moment.

“I’ll try my best.”

With that, I heard the door open and shut along with footsteps coming towards the kitchen where I was filling the kettle. “Would you like tea?” I asked as Gustave walked in.

I heard him sigh before he spoke. I knew that me making tea was not his idea of taking it easy but I couldn’t bring myself to care. “Please sit down and let me do this,” he said while he tried to take the kettle from me as I walked over to the stove.

I maneuvered out of his way and did it myself. “No, I can handle it, Gustave. It’s just tea, not a three-course meal.”

“Just sit down, please. Let me do this for you,” he begged.

I gave him a response by going over to the cupboard and getting the mugs; I couldn’t look at him because I knew if I did, it would lead to more tears, and I had already cried enough that day. “Gustave, I will not be made into a fragile china doll because of this.”

“Lara, you’ve been through so much today.” He wasn’t taking me not looking at him; he walked right up and turned me around to face him. “I just want you to rest for a few moments, please.”

“I can make a cup of tea,” I insisted as I wriggled from his hands that were holding me in place.

I felt his eyes on me as my back was turned. “Are you going to continue fighting with me about this?” he asked.

“I believe you know the answer to that,” I said as I got up on my tiptoes trying to get the tea leaves, only for him to reach up and get them for me.

“Okay, fine,” he said as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ll let you make your tea as long as you sit down after that and relax for a moment.”

“I’m not promising anything at this moment in time.” I knew I must have been frustrating him at that point, but that was the last thing on my mind. He didn’t understand, he couldn’t understand. I had had no control over anything that had happened that day and that was not alright. I needed something that I could do at the moment that I had total control over in order to put things back into perspective for me.

“Please talk to me, Lara. Why are you shutting me out? I don't want you to keep to yourself at a time like this. Please let me help you.” The pain in Gustave’s voice was hurting me too but this was what needed to be done for my sanity.

“Believe me. You are helping by not pressing the subject. This is what I need to do right now. I don’t need help.” I tried to sound confident as I spoke, but I don’t believe I was very successful. 

“But why, love? Why do you feel the need to do something like that? You signed up to get my help whether you wanted it or not the day you and I put these on our fingers,” he said, referring to our wedding bands.

“Because that is all I can think to do right now. This is something I can do in my sleep; I know where I am and how to do it.” I tried to make what I was saying sound as sane as possible as I added the sugar to my mug. “I don't know how to approach the situation we find ourselves in. What I’m doing right now by making tea is safe, it is known territory for me.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, which was actually more terrifying than when he was asking me questions. Instead, he just walked up and gently wrapped his arms around me, taking the mugs from my hands and put them on the counter. “I know it’s hard. I know that I can’t even begin to imagine what you must be feeling. But I just don’t see how keeping me out of this is going to help anything.”

“That’s the problem: I don't know what I feel. I didn’t even know I was pregnant. Today just spiralled out of control and I don't know where I am, I don’t know how to react.” The lump in my throat made it hard to explain but I didn’t want to cry. He needed to hear what I had to say and crying wasn’t going to help that. “This whole feeling of not knowing is so terrifying. My whole life, I have built myself upon knowing the answers and knowing what to do. This is all new and I’m petrified because I don't know what comes next, so right now, I need something familiar. Something that I have control over, something simple that can distract me from everything that has just happened because I don’t even understand it all. As a woman, none of the decisions in my life have ever been in my control, so I grasp at any chance I get, so for something to happen within my own body that I could not control means that I can never escape. I don't expect you to understand my babbling as I try to explain this; I just need you to accept that this is what I need to do right now.”

“Okay, I understand. Just know that I’m going to help you, and I can only do that if you talk to me like you just did. Please keep doing that so I can try my best to help you through this,” Gustave said as he turned me around once again and just held me in a hug. The comforting feeling of his body against mine soothed me more than I thought possible; that was where I was meant to be and nothing was going to take that away. But it was then that I realized that something could very well take that - take him - from me.

“Please don't leave me, Gustave,” I begged, holding him tighter as the hot tears finally began to spill over onto my cheeks. 

“God, Lara, don't even think of such a thing. I’m not going anywhere, now or ever,” he said as he held my head tighter to his chest, letting me hear his heartbeat. I could only imagine the sound of my own heart breaking if that heart was beating for someone else.

“But what if something is wrong with me? What if I can’t give you the life you want?”

“It’s okay, love, believe me. As long as I have you in my life, I’m happy. Nothing is wrong with you.”

“I don’t understand how you can think that given what just happened.” It wasn’t that I thought he was lying to me; I don’t believe he would ever do that. I genuinely didn’t understand how he could say that nothing was wrong with me when I felt like I had been mismade.

He let me go to look me in the eyes before he lifted my left hand. “Take off your ring.”

“What? Why?” I asked. I couldn’t help but wonder if that was it. I hadn’t thought he would be so blunt about it.

“You have a point, now take off your ring.” I felt a snap in my chest as I took it off and held it out in my palm to him. “Now tell me, what does it say in there?”

I looked inside and tried my best though he knew I struggled with French. “ _ Je reviendrai toujours.” _

“Now tell me what that means,” he instructed.

I didn’t really see where he was going, but I answered him anyway: “I will always come back.”

“You’re right, and those are the words I said to you right before I got on a train to go participate in a war neither of us wanted to be a part of. I promised you that I would always come back to you because you are my everything,” he said as he took the ring from my hand and slid it back onto my finger. “If a war couldn’t split us up, this won’t either. As long as I am alive, there will be no other woman in the world for me. So please don’t ever think something like that again.”

I didn’t know what else to say, so I simply flung my arms around him and held on for dear life. We stood there for a while, just hugging, but a certain thought had been nagging me and I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore: “I just feel so broken.”

“I know. I’m so sorry.” I felt him press a kiss to the top of my head. “You are perfectly whole to me, I swear.”

“But what if I’m not?” I asked as I lifted my head from his chest to look up at him. ”What if there is something wrong with me and we can never have the baby that we both want so badly?”

“We will cross that bridge when we get to it, my dear. But no matter what happens, I promise I will be right here to go through it all with you,” he told me as he took my hand and kissed my knuckles.

I nodded and buried my face in his chest again. “I’m sorry, Gustave. I know you would have loved this baby.”

“This isn’t your fault, love. You know that, right?” He was stroking my hair while the kettle screamed behind me but I don’t think either of us cared. Being there, holding him and being held, was more important than anything in the world.

“At the moment, it feels that way a little bit, even though I know they're probably wasn’t much I could have done,” I admitted. My mind seemed to be putting things back in order and my sense of logic was returning.

“There you go, just like you said. This was out of our hands, and I know that the thought of that being out of our control can be scary for you,” he said as he cupped my face in his hands. “But just remember that this isn’t like tea; you have to loosen a grip on this a little bit.”

“The fact that it’s my baby and the life of that child that I have to loosen my grip on doesn’t exactly entice me to do that.”

He sighed; I knew that he didn’t like it either, but he was the more level-headed of the two of us at that moment. “It’s not a wildly appealing idea to me either. It’s just life at this point, though, and that’s something we have to accept.”

“I don't want to, though...I don't want to accept that our baby is gone.”

He turned off the stove as he spoke: “I don’t like it either, dear, but I think this might be one of those times when we do the things we have to do so we can do the things we want to do.”

“I don’t understand,” I admitted. Just one more thing to add to my ever-growing list of things I did not know.

“What I mean is that we both want to have a child, but this is something we have to go through to get there. Why don't we just sit down for now and have tea? We don't have to think about this all at once.” I’m glad one of us had acknowledged the kettle that was begging to be removed from the element on the stove. I let him finish what I had started and went over to the couch to wait for him. I couldn’t help but start getting emotional again - I believe I had used up my quota of tears for the rest of the year all in one day - but actually verbalizing what had happened made it hurt all over again. The baby was gone and there was nothing I could have done to save it. I suppose that the entire ordeal hurt so much because I had never lost something that I was so eager to love; I’d been fortunate in that sense. Maybe that was why Gustave was able to be the calm one for me; his life had already folded in on itself, both when he lost his mother and William, so he knew that it would get better. For me, though, it had been a shock to my system, and more than ever before, I was grateful to have him by my side to balance me out when I needed it most.

Eventually, Gustave walked over and handed me my mug; the warmth felt good in my hands which suddenly felt very cold. Once he was seated, I assumed our normal position of resting my head on his shoulder. “At least your father was there to help a bit. He kept us both as level-headed as possible,” I pointed out.

Gustave chuckled and I couldn’t help but smile as well; Erik being the calmest person in the room meant that the bar was set very low indeed. “Believe me. He was ready to have a panic attack when he saw you at the door,” he retorted.

“He worries about me too much.”

“Well, if he worries too much, I imagine I belong on some astronomical scale.” I felt another kiss be pressed to the top of my head and a feeling of contentment flooded through me.

“I know you do,” I said with a small laugh.

I didn’t have to look up to know there was a smug look on his face as he said, “And I’m comfortable with that.”

We fell into a state of comfortable silence, but Erik was running through my mind by then and I realized another thing that jabbed at my heart once more: “Your poor father. That was his grandchild. I feel bad about losing it for him too.”

“Lara, you can’t keep blaming yourself for this. It was not something you could have decided.” I can only imagine he must be getting tired of repeating himself.

“I know it wasn’t. I know this must be getting tiresome but I can’t help but feel I did something wrong. I didn’t know I was pregnant, I was going about my life as normal. What if I did something that led to this?”

“That is something we won’t ever know the answer to. I know how much that bothers you, but I don't want you to go about your days over-analyzing your everyday actions now.” I thought he was done, but he continued by pointing out, “You know you don’t have to apologize.”

“Yes I do, because I feel like I’m making you repeat yourself a thousand times,” I tried to explain as I leaned in closer. “But what if I get pregnant again and don't know it yet? What if...I can’t let this happen again, Gustave.”

“This is not something that you can just will into happening. We just need to go one day at a time right now.”

“Do you think we could ever try again? Risk this happening again?” I asked him as I craned my neck from where I was positioned to look him in the eyes.

There was a smile on his face that gave me all the hope in the world. “I think we should just let whatever is going to happen happen. There is no use dwelling on something that hasn’t happened yet.”

“I suppose. I just want a baby, Gustave, and I know you do too.”

“And God willing, we will have one, but it will be at the right time. And this simply wasn’t it.” He leaned his head down and I welcomed the feeling of his cheek resting on top of my head. “Though right now, that isn’t my priority. Right now, we need to make sure that you recover from this.”

I wanted to say something, but the painful lump in my throat threatened to send more tears running down my face and I was really getting tired of crying. “It still hurts, Gustave,” was all I was able to whisper.

“I know it does. It hurts me too. But we are strong,” he said as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer to him. “ _ You  _ are strong. We’re going to make it through this.”

“Thank you. I love you so much.” I said as I lifted my head and gave him a proper kiss. When we separated, he wore his lopsided smile and said something that started to make me feel whole again:

“And you’ll always have me.”


	28. A Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the ultimate betrayal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LONG CHAPTER AHEAD. ENJOY :D
> 
> updated 02-18-21

**_OCTOBER 1919_ **

**_ADELE_ **

I glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner of the sitting room, sighing as I realized that it was getting too late in the morning for Nadir to continue sleeping. It was almost half-past nine; I had been up for over an hour and a half and had yet to eat breakfast, as the two of us usually ate together. By that point, though, I was considering just eating on my own and leaving the newspaper for Nadir to find before I left to run errands. At the same time, though, I knew he would only worry if he woke up and didn't know where I had gone. Not that he felt I had to tell him where I would be - Nadir was far from that kind of man - but he was simply too worried about me to think that I might be in a scenario where I might be hurt. It was sweet, truthfully; I adored his kindness.

What I did not adore was his attachment to our bed, particularly when I was awake and hungry. Determined to put a stop to it, I set my book aside and made my way up to the bedroom to wake him. Walking to his side of the bed - always the right side - I couldn't help but smile when I looked at him; his hair was a mess and I could tell he would have to fight to control it once he got up. The collar of his shirt was askew and I could tell that his face was a bit swollen, so all in all, he looked like a bit of a mess at the moment, but I loved him nonetheless.

Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, I gently ran my fingers through his thick black hair, though it was slowly being overtaken by the grey hair that had been filling in bigger patches recently; by that point, there was about a half-and-half combination on top of his head. I noticed little wrinkles by the corners of his eyes; smile lines, I hoped, though I knew frowning and serious expressions were the more likely culprit. From what he had shared of his past thus far, my heart ached to know all that he had suffered, but I had made it a personal goal to make enough beautiful memories with him to push the tragedies he had faced aside.

"Nadir, darling, you have to get up," I said softly, moving my hand from his hair to gently stroke and tap his arm. "It's late, you can't keep sleeping."

A moment later, he started to stir and yawned as he did, but didn't open his eyes. Instead, he reached up, wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me down to lay beside him. "Not yet, love," he murmured, still sounding half asleep, what with the gravelly roughness to his voice.

I rolled my eyes and gave him a light smack on the shoulder to try and get him to let me go. "Nadir, come on," I said, only to sigh when I felt him pull me closer to his chest, that action alone serving as his response to what I had said.

"There we are. This is much more comfortable," he said. "Far superior to you just sitting next to me."

"Mm, yes. I suppose," I said, sighing to tease him despite the small smile on my face.

"You know it is," Nadir replied, managing to nuzzle himself closer to me, his face tucked into the crook of my neck.

I shrugged slightly. "It's alright, I suppose." I was determined to tease him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had uprooted my original reason for coming upstairs.

I felt him lift his head and could tell without even looking that he was trying to read me. "Well then. This should improve things," he said before he leaned over to kiss my cheek.

"Perhaps it does improve it a little bit."

"I'm slightly offended, love. I thought it would be perfect with me here."

"I'm teasing you, don't be stupid. It is perfect here in your arms, you know that," I said, setting my hand over his where it rested on my waist.

He pressed a kiss to the back of my neck and I could feel him smiling when his lips lingered for a moment. "Good. We can stay here as long as you want."

"I would stay here forever if I could, but I have to go down and make breakfast for the two of us."

"Says who?" he asked, lifting his head just enough to rest his chin on my shoulder.

"Says me because I have been up for some time and I'm hungry," I retorted, laughing even though I wanted to be - or at least sound - annoyed. "But are you not hungry this morning? Is that it?"

Nadir shook his head as he buried his face back into the crook of my neck. "I am happy right where I am," he said softly.

"Well, in that case, I suppose we can stay here for now," I said, smiling when he tugged the covers over me and pulled me even closer to him than before.

At that, we fell into a comfortable silence, simply enjoying one another's company and the intimacy of such a simple gesture as holding each other. The closeness of it, feeling the heartbeat of the one you adore. So much could be said about your love without using a single word.

Our blissfully peaceful moment was soon interrupted, though, when there was a knock at the front door. I knew that Nadir had heard it too and should let me go so I could answer it, but I frowned when he made no move to do so. "I have to go get the door, dear," I said.

"No you don't," he replied, his voice muffled as he spoke into my neck.

"Nadir, I can't leave whoever that is standing on your front step," I remarked.

"Says who?"

"Says human decency. Come on, I have to go open the door."

"Fine," he mumbled, though he didn't move his arms at all from where they were still tightly wrapped around my waist.

Rolling my eyes, I reached behind me and tickled his side, which quickly got him to pull his arms away so I could get to my feet.

"Cheater!" he exclaimed, though he was laughing through his words and clearly having more fun with our mutual teasing than he wanted to admit.

"You wouldn't let go! I did what I had to do!"

"That was uncalled for."

I laughed quietly, kneeling beside the bed and running my fingers through his hair again. "As I said, I did what had to be done," I replied, leaning forward to give him a gentle kiss. "Now, I'm going to open the door. Get out of bed."

"Alright, alright," Nadir said, smiling and giving me another quick kiss before I got a chance to stand up.

I smiled as I got to my feet, making my way down to the front hall. I wasn't sure who it was that could be knocking, but when I opened the door, I wasn't surprised at all. "Good morning, Erik. It's good to see you."

A slight frown formed on my face when I noticed how confused Erik was as he looked at me. "Oh. Good morning. It's...nice to see you too, Madame, but, with all due respect, I thought you were in Switzerland," he said.

There was my answer; Nadir hadn't mentioned that the two of us had started living together. "I did go back for a very short time, yes. Only to collect my things and bring them back here," I explained.

"I see. Um...is Nadir home?" Erik asked, still sounding very confused even with the explanation that I had offered.

"Yes, he's just upstairs getting changed. Come in, Erik."

"Thank you, Madame."

I stepped aside to let him in, then smiled at him before I walked to the bottom of the stairs to call up to Nadir. Walking towards the kitchen, I paused when I noticed Erik was still standing in the front hall, awkwardly shuffling his feet. "Erik, you're welcome to go sit in the parlour while you wait," I said.

"No, that's alright. It seems I won't have to wait anymore," Erik said.

Looking over my shoulder, I smiled as Nadir walked over to me and wrapped an arm around my waist. "Your friend wants to speak with you, love."

"Yes, is there any chance we can talk in private, Daroga?" Erik inquired.

"Of course, we can just step into the sitting room. Is something wrong, Erik?" Nadir asked, kissing my cheek before he followed his friend into the other room. I considered leaving the two of them to talk, but I found myself to be too curious about what Erik had to say, so I stood by the door, behind the wall, to listen in.

"Yes, something's wrong," Erik said, his voice hushed as he spoke. "The fact that you never told me that she moved in with you."

I covered my mouth to muffle my quiet laughter. I could practically see Nadir's frustrated expression; I knew that he would have been worried about Erik after he asked to speak alone, only to hear the true reason for his visit. "And why is that wrong, exactly?" I heard him ask, his words echoing my own thoughts.

"Because I am your closest friend and you should tell me these things," Erik replied.

"Erik, don't be upset. Yes, Adele moved in here. Now you know and we can get on with our lives, can't we?"

"Maybe."

Erik was intent on being a nuisance that day, it seemed, and I could tell that Nadir would have none of it. "What's on your mind? I know that tone."

"Nothing. That's just a result of my brain trying to figure out what this means for your relationship," Erik said.

"Look, it just means that things are moving forward. I'm not quite sure what else you'd like me to say to you," Nadir replied.

Erik's response was almost immediate: "I would like to know when you plan on going ring shopping so I can come along."

I felt my cheeks flush at the comment and I set my hands over them to try and cool them down so no one would notice. That thought...Nadir proposing...it was strange to think about, but far from an unwelcome thought. To be married to him, to call him my husband for the rest of my life...just thinking about it made my heart flutter; I couldn't think of a more amazing privilege.

"I'm not going ring shopping anytime soon, so don't look so eager," I heard Nadir say. After my moment of fantasizing about a life together, it stung the slightest bit to hear that, but we both knew that it was much too early in our courtship to consider marriage.

"You know that saying that does absolutely nothing," Erik replied.

"Right, because you're convinced that I'm going to walk into the kitchen right now and ask her to marry me, hm?"

"Not at this moment, no, but if that's where you want to 'pop the question,' as they say, go right ahead." I laughed to myself again; when Erik wished to be annoying, he was certainly good at it.

"Look, if that happens, it will be at the right time when both of us feel ready to make that commitment. We aren't at that point, we're not rushing anything," Nadir said, but the comment that he added was the one that made me smile: "And if it does happen, I will be proposing in a much more beautiful place than in our kitchen."

"How intriguing. It's 'our' kitchen now," Erik said, and I could hear him smiling through his words, clearly happy to find another way to bother his friend.

"Yes, it is. Our kitchen, our house. She lives with me and we are a couple, what do you expect?" Nadir inquired.

"This is just me teasing you. Don't get all annoyed."

"I'm not annoyed, you twit. I'm setting things straight for you."

Shaking my head fondly at the friendly bickering, I finally stepped away and into the kitchen to make breakfast. I decided on oatmeal with fruit, as it was quick and I was starving; whether Nadir was present or not no longer mattered to me. But I had only just started to put my oatmeal together when Erik burst into the room, looking frantic as he stopped a few feet away from me, then looked back to the doorway. I looked in the same direction and watched Nadir walk in, much calmer than Erik, with a look on his face that told me he was holding back his irritation. "Am I missing something?" I asked.

"No, you're not. Besides the fact that I'm going to kill him," Nadir replied, his gaze fixed on Erik as he stood next to me and wrapped an arm around my waist. "If you want to start digging the hole, I'll meet you in the yard."

"What did he do now? You were only talking for a few moments."

"It's not important."

I quirked a brow, not believing him one bit. "Which means it is important. I know you, dear, and I know when you're annoyed and trying to pass it off as nothing, particularly to do with Erik. What did he do?" I asked again.

"Just harmless teasing," Erik piped up, clearly determined to defend himself.

"Of what nature? Erik, are you making jokes you shouldn't be?"

"Jokes that were warranted considering how long we've known each other."

I sighed as I gave him an unimpressed look, trying to make it less obvious that I had overheard part of their conversation. "It was teasing about our relationship, wasn't it?" I asked.

"Maybe a little," Erik replied with a haphazard shrug.

"Erik, just tell me what you said so we can resolve this and Nadir can stop plotting your murder in his head," I said.

"You know that he does that anyway," Erik pointed out, a smirk on his face. "I am aware that I can be quite a challenging individual."

Nadir scoffed at the comment, acknowledging the fact that what Erik had said was a remarkable understatement. "Yes, we are well aware of that, but what is it that is so inappropriate that you won't tell me?" I inquired. "It can't possibly be that bad if Nadir hasn't lashed out at you already, so you may as well just tell me."

"Alright, alright. He was going on about how this house belongs to both of you now, so I asked him if it was your shared bedroom as well and then he started looking at me like that, so naturally, I ran," Erik explained.

"Oh, well, I'm not sure why he did that instead of simply answering. It is our shared bedroom, yes."

Erik's jaw dropped when he heard that; clearly, my answer was not the one he had been expecting. I turned to Nadir then and found him looking at me with a slight frown. "Darling, does he need to know that?" he asked.

"What difference does it make?" I queried.

"Well, I don't know. That's sort of a...personal aspect of our relationship, don't you think?"

"Nadir, if he wants to jump to his own conclusions, that's his problem. The two of us know that nothing has happened, which is what matters."

"Fine, fine. It's done now, so it doesn't matter," Nadir said with a sigh, turning to his friend and laughing quietly when he noticed the lingering shock on Erik's face. "Would you pick your jaw up off the floor, you ridiculous man?"

I laughed along with him, thoroughly entertained by just how baffled Erik was. "Unless you want to catch the fly that's been buzzing around this kitchen for the past few minutes, I'd follow that advice," I added.

"Well, I...I'm just trying to get my head around it, that's all," Erik said when he had finally found his voice again.

"There's nothing to wrap your head around. We share a bedroom, it isn't an enormous news story," Nadir replied with a roll of his eyes. "Why did you even come over in the first place? You never come over."

Almost immediately, I noticed a change in Erik's disposition; his eyes seemed to darken, his shocked expression morphing into a more solemn one. "Gustave is at home with Lara and they need their space right now. I needed company," he said, his voice quieter than it had been only a moment before.

"What happened? Are they alright?"

"They will be, in time, but...Lara had a miscarriage."

I gasped, lifting my hand to cover my mouth when I did. I hadn't known Lara very long at all, but I could tell she was a sweet young lady. Not to mention that the love she and Gustave had was obvious; they didn't deserve to know that pain. "My god. Is she alright? Physically speaking, that is," I finally said.

"She was still uncomfortable when they got home from the hospital the other day. Still some cramping and general pain," Erik explained.

"They must be devastated," Nadir said, his voice quiet. I was quick to wrap an arm around him to hold him tight; I knew he had experience with the very same tragedy and I wanted him to know that I was there for him.

"Lara was a mess, and I can only imagine Gustave was the same, though he put that aside for his wife's sake," Erik replied.

"Let him know that I'm here to talk if he needs me. I know him as well as you do; he'll bottle it all up for a million years for her sake, but it isn't healthy."

"I know it's not. I'm worried that both of them will do exactly that."

Nadir nodded and reached up to run his hand through his hair. "I hope this doesn't hurt their marriage," he said. "I don't know if those two could function without each other."

"They wouldn't be able to, that's for certain. I'm hoping they'll be alright; I haven't heard from them since it happened," Erik replied.

"It might be best that you let them work things out on their own for a time," I piped up. I knew that losing a baby was a pain like no other for a young mother, and I wanted to ensure that Lara and Gustave had that space to work through it together.

"Oh, I know. I don't want to intrude at all. That's why I'm here and leaving them to themselves. I needed someone to talk to about it," Erik admitted, twisting the wedding band he wore around his finger.

I heard Nadir sigh as he stepped back to lean against the counter. "I don't know how I feel about you having told us all this," he said, continuing when he noticed the confused expression cross Erik's face: "I mean, we worry for their wellbeing, obviously, and I'm glad that we know. At the same time, though, I can't help but think that this was something that they should have shared."

"I do too, but now I feel bad that I said anything," Erik sighed. "I just couldn't keep it to myself any longer, Nadir. Not after I saw Lara so soon after it happened."

"How soon after?" I asked with a frown.

"Right after. She had stepped into the bathroom to clean up before we went to the doctor; her cramping had been bad and she was dizzy, which was enough cause for us to take her. She called for Gustave a moment later and I was right behind him, but we both walked in to see that it had already happened," Erik explained.

"My god. That's awful," Nadir said.

Erik nodded, looking down at his feet. "I knew what had happened the moment I stepped into that room. I had had my suspicions before, what with the cramping and everything, but seeing her just confirmed it. To have to tell my son and daughter-in-law that they had lost their baby was...an absolute nightmare."

"Oh Erik," I said softly as I stepped forward and gently set my hand on his arm. "I can't imagine what that must have been like."

"Let's just say that I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy."

"And you've had a lot of those in your life," Nadir said. I glanced over at him and saw the hesitant smile on his face; he was trying to cheer his friend up, even a little bit, but at that moment, with the subject at hand, that was a difficult feat.

"That I have. Even with them all, though, that's not something any father should have to do," Erik replied, sounding more choked up than before.

I sighed, gently setting my hand on his back. "This is something no one should have to go through, no matter who they are," I said, rubbing his back in an attempt to comfort him as best I could.

"Do you think we should check on them soon? Make sure they're okay?" Nadir inquired.

"I'm not sure. Perhaps we should, but I believe they need their space at the moment," Erik replied.

"Just give them their time together," I said with a nod. "I'm sure they'll go to you both when they need you."

Erik shrugged and started to fiddle with his ring again. "I would like to think we can be the support system that they need."

"I'm sure you will be," I replied, setting my hand over his to stop his fidgeting. "But if you overthink it, neither of you will be there for them in the way you need them to be."

"You're right. But then again, of course you are. You're always right, Madame," Erik said, giving me a small smile.

"Someone has to know how to keep the two of you in check."

"Well, we appreciate it. You'll have the rest of your life to put up with at least one of us, it seems."

I smirked slightly as I shot Nadir a side-eye. "We'll see what happens," I said, my smirk growing into a smile when I noticed his ears turn a bright shade of red.

"Y-yes, I...I suppose we will," he stuttered, his cheeks flushing as red as his ears when I stepped over and kissed him.

I kept it to myself, but I sincerely hoped Erik would be accompanying Nadir to go ring shopping. It was only a question of when.

* * *

 **_OCTOBER 1920_ ** **_  
_** **_NADIR_ **

It was a beautiful day as Adele and I arrived at Erik’s house; we were running a little late and I was truly hoping I wasn’t in for an earful about tardiness from him. Thankfully, though, it was Elizabeth who answered the door.

“Hi Auntie Adele!” she exclaimed as we stepped into the foyer. I couldn’t care less that she had only acknowledged Adele; the two of them were adorable together.

We had barely taken our shoes off before Lizzie was hugging her aunt. “Hello, my little prima ballerina. How are we doing today?” Adele asked her as she handed me her coat to put on the stand. The nickname had come about the moment Elizabeth had begun to show interest in dance; Adele was over the moon about being able to teach someone again. I didn’t believe she would ever admit to it but I could tell that it made her feel important again.

“Good. I beat Uncle Erik at checkers,” she said confidently.

“Oh wow,” Adele replied before she leaned in to speak in a more hushed tone: “To be fair, though, he’s been quite bad at checkers for a long time.”

“I heard that,” Erik called from another room; that man could hear all the way to Russia if he really wanted to.

Instead of apologizing, Adele yelled back, “You were supposed to!”

Elizabeth giggled and whispered, “He is pretty bad at it.”

“Good to know I don't even have to be in the room to be attacked anymore,” Erik said as we entered the sitting room to find him packing up the checkers board.

Elizabeth wasted no time defending her godfather, proclaiming, “I love you, Uncle Erik!”

“I know you do, princess.” He smiled at her, then proceeded to jokingly glare at us. “Your Auntie Adele and Uncle Nadir don't love me, though.”

“I didn’t even say anything,” I protested. I realized that I was shifting the blame onto Adele, but that was besides the point at the moment.

“Silence speaks louder than words, Daroga,” he said rather simply. I knew he just wanted to put on a show for Elizabeth, so I played along and threw my hands up in surrender.

The little girl was laughing all the way through until she turned back to Adele, who was holding her. “Are we going to do more ballet lessons soon, Auntie Adele?” she asked.

“Not right now, dear, Auntie is a little bit tired. But why don't you ask your mother when you can come over to our house so we can have our lesson?”

“Okay. Can I go ask her now?” The excitement was already building on her face as she spoke.

The smile on Adele’s face at the eagerness of the little girl in her arms was more than enough to make me smile. She gently set her down before telling her, “If you want to. As long as she isn’t busy.”

“She’s not, it’s okay. I’ll be back,” Elizabeth said before running off to the kitchen to find her mother, who was, in truth, probably busy.

“You know how excited she is about learning ballet, don't you?” Erik pointed out as soon as she was gone. “She won’t stop talking about it”

The smile on Adele’s face was one of complete contentment. “Well, I’m glad to hear that. I’m happy to teach her.”

“It must feel nice to be teaching again,” Erik said as we all sat down.

“It does, yes. I didn’t realize how much I had missed it until I started doing it again.” I knew that she was trying to be brief about it; going back to teaching had ignited a spark in her that I had not seen until that point. It was almost like she was born to be an instructor and she had just been waiting for a reason to go back to it.

“I know exactly what you mean. It felt amazing to teach- what is that on your hand?” Erik demanded as he focused on Adele’s left hand.

“What do you mean? It’s just my ring,” Adele said as she raised her hand so he could get a better look.

It was an even better reaction than I had hoped for.

“I know what it is, but it’s new and that finger-” Erik began, only to interrupt himself with a sharp gasp once he had seemingly put the pieces of the puzzle together. “You didn’t.”

“You didn’t what? Erik, finish your sentences,” Adele prodded at him, already laughing as it was, truthfully, utterly hilarious. I had been expecting him to be shocked but it was almost like he had stopped functioning as a human being.

“Please forgive me but I’m not talking to you. Daroga, you know exactly what I mean. Answer the question,” he said before looking over his shoulder towards the kitchen. “Maddie, get in here! You’re going to want to see this.”

“I’m not sure what there is to be confused about. You can draw your own conclusions. Or do you need me to say it to believe it?” I asked; the game we were playing much too easy for me at that point.

Madeleine entered the room then, looking completely confused as to what was going on. “Say what? Is this one of your synchronized things? If it is, just say it, Nadir,” she demanded. I knew better than to play that sort of game with her when that entailed keeping her from the information she wanted, so I decided to put the issue to rest.

“Alright, alright. Adele and I got married,” I said as I wrapped an arm around my wife’s waist to hold her closer.

Madeleine’s reaction was similar to that of a giddy young girl as she squealed and jumped up and down before nearly knocking the couch over with the force of her hug. “That’s amazing!” she shrieked.

“Let me see the ring. I have to know if my taste has rubbed off on him,” Erik said as he walked over to us. For reasons unknown, Adele obliged without a single word in my defence as she let Erik take her hand. To be fair, though, she knew that he had always been the one with more vast knowledge on the topics of jewels and things like that.

“Well? What do you think?” she asked him as he scrutinized my choice.

He gave a small nod before turning to me. “I’m proud of you, Nadir. You’ve done well.”

“Well, it’s not like he did it alone,” Charles piped in from the entrance to the kitchen.

In less than a second, Erik had whipped around to face him; one would think that he would end up hurting himself from moving that fast. “What do you mean?” he demanded.

Charles instantly went pale with fear with the realization of what he had revealed, then tried to cover it up by stuttering, “I-I said nothing,” but it was already too late for him at that point.

“Don’t you lie to me, Charles. He didn’t do it alone? You helped him with this?!” Erik was getting more annoyed by the second, but instead of waiting for a reply from Charles, he shifted his attention to me. “You went to him?!”

“Look, Erik, just relax, alright? You’re overreacting.” I tried to coax him out of the anger that was clearly building up, but I honestly hadn’t been expecting that level of a reaction from him, so I wasn’t sure where to take it.

“I’d have to disagree. This is a betrayal I hadn’t been expecting today, Daroga,” he said, crossing his arms as he sat back in his armchair.

“Oh, don't call it a betrayal, come on.” He was actually starting to annoy me by that point; I could understand him being upset, but calling the situation a betrayal was a hyperbole and a half on his part. “It was only engagement ring shopping and the proposal.”

“I’ve known you since I was nineteen. I thought I would have been involved in something as important as this.” I could see where he was coming from, and as much as I hated to admit it, he had a point; an engagement and proposal was typically something that someone would tell their close friend about, but I had my reasons not to.

Erik took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself down before continuing: “Don't get me wrong, I’m happy for you, but I do feel betrayed at the fact that you didn’t come to me or even tell me about it.”

“Look, I’m sorry, I really am, Erik. I just know how you get when it comes to design choices and things and I was already ridiculously nervous about asking her to marry me,” I tried to explain in an attempt to make the blow as soft as possible, but the look on his face was telling me nothing in regards to whether I was successful or not. “I knew Charles would be more relaxed, which was what I needed.”

“I would have been alright if you had told me anything about your plans. You didn’t even tell me you were thinking about proposing.”

I took a deep sigh and thought back to everything I had felt before I’d proposed: the fear, the anticipation and the overwhelming anxiety of it all. “I was unsure of it myself for so long. I was nervous, Erik, I didn’t think to tell anyone. I didn’t want it to accidentally get mentioned and for Adele to find out, that’s all. It’s really nothing against you.”

The pained expression that he had been wearing on his face soon washed away and was replaced with a smile. “The important thing is that you two are happy. I’m sorry if I was being petty.”

“Well, you were, but what else is new?” That said, I was genuinely shocked that he had called himself out for that type of behaviour; that was something new. “I appreciate the kind sentiment, though, I really do. We both do.”

“Thank you, Erik, we are happy. Though I do believe I understand where you’re coming from,” Adele chimed in.

“Thank you, Adele. And Nadir, I’m glad you didn’t go alone, at the very least,” Erik said as he glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Charles trying to make a break for the kitchen in a futile attempt to escape his inevitable scolding. “Don't even think about it, John. I will deal with you later.”

“We both will,” Madeleine said, almost mirroring the look on Erik’s face.

Charles slowly lowered himself back into his seat with his hands raised in surrender. “I know, I know.”

“Only a coward runs,” I pointed out.

“Well, I’m not running. I’ll stay here and accept my fate,” he retorted with a matter-of-fact tone.

“Shall we tell Lizzie? I’m sure she’ll be happy,” Erik said and, as if on cue, Elizabeth skipped her way into the room and plopped herself next to Adele.

“Tell me what?” she asked, looking around at all of us. It was quite an entertaining sight, to say the least; this small child looking around at all the adults in the room and nobody was opening their mouths to answer her question.

I was no help; I had no idea how one would word such an explanation to a child. For all she was aware, Adele and I had always been married because she couldn’t remember a world without her; she had been much too young to recall me as a single man. So rather than try and figure out a way to explain it to her, I prompted the group with a question of my own: “The real question will be who is going to tell Gustave.”

The timing that day was particularly impeccable, seeing as right after I had spoken, there was a knock at the door. “Well, you can tell them both at once,” Erik said as he stood up to go let them in.

As Gustave and Lara came into the room, there was a level of anticipation radiating off of Elizabeth like a physical force. “Gustave, sit down. Uncle Erik says Uncle Nadir and Auntie Adele have to tell us something,” she said as she got up and practically dragged him to his seat.

“And what would that be?” Gustave asked, still laughing about Elizabeth’s persistence, only to look at us and immediately zero in on Adele’s hand. “Oh my lord, you didn’t.”

“Observant people in this household, god. But yes, we did.” I confirmed.

“Did what? Tell me, I wanna know too!” Lizzie was getting increasingly impatient; she clearly did not like being left out.

Thankfully, Adele was able to be the one who explained it: “Well, I’m officially your auntie now, Elizabeth. Your uncle and I got married.”

“Really?!” The little girl practically jumped out of her spot and onto Adele’s lap and engulfed her in a tight hug. The smiles on both her and my wife’s faces were absolutely priceless.

“Do I not get a hug?” I asked, feeling a little left out.

“Sorry, Uncle Nadir,” she said as her head shot up, realizing that she had neglected to hug me as well. She got off of Adele and I was almost jumped on to receive my hug. “I’m really happy you married Auntie Adele.”

“Well, I’m glad you approve.” I couldn’t help but smile that she was so happy about something that she quite likely barely understood.

The moment was interrupted by Charles and his laughter. “Is anyone going to acknowledge the fact that Gustave’s jaw hit the floor two minutes ago or is that just me?” he asked, pointing out that it did, in fact, look like Gustave was trapped in time while in his state of shock.

"We were getting to him, yes,” I said, though I couldn’t avoid laughing myself. “Gustave, take a deep breath and come back to reality when you're ready."

He finally closed his mouth, only to open it again to say: “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“Be nice, Gustave. That's not the proper thing to say when you find out your uncle got married,” Lara said, giving her husband a light hit on his arm before coming over to hug both Adele and me. “Congratulations, you two.”

"Thank you, Lara. And don't worry about your husband; his father said almost the exact same thing," I said as I shot Erik a mocking look of disapproval.

“You two share a brain, don’t you?” Adele pointed out, looking at the father and son duo. She really wasn’t that far off.

I nodded before Lara and I ended up saying in unison, “It’s exhausting.”

Erik scoffed as he realized that speaking in sync was typically something that we did. “Now you two are doing it as well. Nothing is special anymore.”

"We did it first, it's alright. We still have that as our signature thing,” I assured him.

“Wait. Can we circle back to something, because I feel like I missed something. I actually have two questions,” Gustave said, looking rather confused. “The first one being: you didn’t tell Papa about this? I’m shocked.”

I gave him the briefest explanation possible, not wanting to repeat myself: "Your father is a high strung man about absolutely everything and I was petrified about proposing, so yes, I kept it to myself."

“Not completely, apparently,” Erik piped in, gesturing to Charles.

Charles was clearly tired of being called into question as, with a heavy sigh, he explained, once again, that he was innocent: "Look, he asked! I wasn't going to say no!"

“Okay, but now for my second question.” I couldn’t tell if Gustave was trying to save Charles or if he was genuinely curious, but his question cleared everything up for me: “Did you take my advice about the steel grey?”

I smiled, thinking back to the conversation we’d had in his old room not long before his own wedding. "I did, yes. I liked it very much, so thank you."

"So you were the inspiration for that lovely choice of a suit? In that case, I have to thank you as well." Adele said; she had loved the choice and that just made me all the happier about following his advice.

Gustave looked quite proud of himself as he smiled at us. “You’re welcome.”

“He had input on this and I didn’t?!” Erik was shocked, to say the least, and I couldn’t blame him for that.

"Look, it was back when we were planning his wedding. He mentioned that I should wear that colour as a joke long before I even thought of proposing.” As I thought back, I had laughed at Gustave for getting ahead of himself when he’d originally given me that suggestion. Little did I know that I would be following the advice he’d given me a little over a year later. “I hadn't even seen Adele in person again at that point. So just relax. You're only proving my point about you being too high strung."

“I apologize for being shocked.” He was clearly saying it sarcastically, but I didn’t care.

"Yes, yes, sure. Apology accepted," I replied. Erik was about to make his retort when his attention was pulled away, both hypothetically and physically, and his eyes were drawn to his goddaughter, who was at my side, pulling lightly on my sleeve.

"Uncle Nadir, Uncle Nadir,” she said softly, leading me to assume that she wanted my attention but didn’t want to interrupt.

“What is it, dear?” I asked.

With the widest grin on her face that one could imagine, she made her request: "Give Auntie Adele a kiss."

With a smile of my own, I obliged her and leaned over to give Adele a quick kiss, noticing that she was already rosy with blush at Lizzie’s rather abrupt statement. We were quickly taken out of the moment, though, by a small squeal from Madeleine, and we looked over to see her with such an expression that one would think she was ready to burst.

“Do you have something you’d like to share with the group, Madeleine?” Erik prodded through his laughter.

"No, no. It's fine, I'm fine,” she replied. I couldn’t tell if she was trying to affirm us or herself with her words.

“Are you sure?” Erik was really out to be granted his own death sentence, it seemed.

"Yes." Her voice was at such a pitch that one would think that she was trying to hold her breath as she spoke.

Before Erik could bother her further, Charles jumped in to join him: “Kiss her again, Nadir. Kiss her like you mean it this time,” he said, knowing full well that he had to go home with his wife at the end of the night.

“You need to shut up before something happens to you,” Madeleine threatened. She didn’t even look at them, so we weren’t quite sure who she was talking to, but it was frightening nonetheless.

"No, Uncle Nadir, please do it. I want to see where this goes," Gustave said through his laughter.

“You people are the worst,” Madeleine protested, her face in her hands to hide the redness that has taken it over.

The whole situation was hilarious so I entertained the boys and looked over to Adele, but she ended up beating me to the punch; she held my face in her hands and pulled me in for a longer kiss than the previous one. That display was greeted with even more squealing from Madeleine, and when we pulled away, she looked like the perfect replica of a schoolgirl.

“Do you want to sit down, dear?” Charles asked her, offering her his chair as he stood up.

“I don’t want one word out of you. You instigated this,” she replied.

“Technically Elizabeth did,” he stated but was greeted with a look of death and immediately sunk back into his chair. "Okay, okay. Take your time."

"You look like you need to hug someone, and I have a feeling it's me and my wife," I pointed out. It was greeted with immediate and almost aggressive nodding from Madeleine which I simply had to chuckle at; it was cute how much she loved things like that.

"Alright, come here," I said as I stood up. Within moments, I was almost knocked back onto the couch with the force of her coming up and hugging me, and she did the same to Adele.

“I’m sorry about her,” Erik chimed in, still laughing as he spoke. “She’s a small person so there’s not a lot of space to store the emotions she has. And she has a lot of them.”

"You know, when it comes to her being happy about me getting married to the woman I love, I don't have any complaints," I said, defending her emotional nature.

“You see, this is why I like you more than him,” Madeleine shot back at Erik, giving him a glare that could have easily buried him six feet underground.

"What? You got the kiss you wanted, didn't you?” Erik pointed out, returning to his own defence. “Based on that squeal of yours, I know you're happy about it."

“You were trying to embarrass me,” Madeleine said, glaring at both Erik and Gustave along with her husband. “You all were.”

Even with that accusation, Gustave was still laughing like a madman at Madeleine to the point where Lara had to take him into the kitchen to calm him down.

"My love, you're adorable, that's all," Charles said, trying to make her feel a little bit better about the whole ordeal.

“Yes yes. Adorable and entertaining is what I believe you want to say based on that smile.” Madeleine pointed out, and if one looked at Charles’s face, it was clear that she wasn’t wrong.

"No, don't be ridiculous.” The poor soul was not a good liar. “Still, if you hug Nadir any tighter, you might suffocate him. Don't hurt the new groom."

“I’d still like him in one piece.” It was Adele’s turn to laugh at him.

After taking a moment to simply enjoy the fact that my wife was laughing and the resulting lovely sound of it, I piped up to add to her point: "Yes, I do have a new wife to love and take care of. I wouldn't mind being alive to do that, as much as I love the hug."

“Sorry about that. I’m just so happy for you both. This is incredible,” Madeleine replied. She was truly too sweet for words.

“Erik, how does it feel to be the only single adult in the room?” I tried to jab at my friend, realizing that he had been uncharacteristically quiet.

He seemed a bit dazed, but when he came back to reality, something about his demeanour had changed. "A little strange, I will admit, but I'm used to being the single one, so it's alright,” he said.

He said that but he was fidgeting with his ring again; something was off. He only played with it when he was nervous or upset. “Are you okay?” I asked quietly.

He must have realized that I had noticed his tick so he dropped his hand into his lap, then responded with a look that seemed to say, _“I’m alright.”_

I still didn’t believe him, so I tried again without saying a word as I looked at him: _"Are you really okay?"_

It took him longer that time, but he insisted with a look that said, _“I’m okay, I promise.”_

He wasn’t going to tell me, not right then and there, so I simply silently told him: _“We’ll talk about it later.”_

I was taken out of my silent conversation by the sound of my wife making fun of me: “Hopefully one day I’ll be able to understand what it is you two talk about when you look at each other like that.”

“Believe me, you never really understand it,” Gustave pointed out.

"We've managed to keep those silent conversations a secret for years. I do believe we'll keep it that way," Erik said as he plastered a smile on his face, but if someone who knew him as well as I did looked close enough, it was easy to tell that there were cracks.

Instead of dwelling on whatever was upsetting him, I looked back to Adele and continued with the narrative he had set up: “Don’t worry love; it has taken years of development to get to this point. I don’t think we even understand how we do it.”

"No, not quite. We just make it work somehow," Erik said.

Adele giggled a little and looked between us before saying, “Are you sure it’s me you’re married to?”

"Yes, I can say so for certain," I affirmed with a smile on my face, not only because the premise of her asking was entertaining, but also because stating the fact that she was married to me brought me great joy.

Madeleine, however, decided to keep running with the joke: “It's a fair question though.”

"I've realized that, since everyone in this room besides Erik and myself has made similar comments," I pointed out, only to realize that when I actually said it out loud, it sounded a little more depressing than I’d meant it to.

“I still don’t understand why,” Erik added.

"Apparently, the closeness of our friendship makes us seem more like a married couple.” I knew that he was well aware of the facts but he was entertained by the explanation nonetheless. “We'll have to put a stop to that somehow."

“But it’s funny,” Elizabeth said with an adorably cheeky grin on her face.

Erik and I shared a knowing look before he turned his attention to Lizzie. "Oh, is it? Even you find it funny, do you?" he taunted.

His response was a few nods and a lot more giggling from his goddaughter. “Well then, I’m going to have some fun too.” With one movement, Erik scooped the girl up in his arm and began tickling her sides. She squirmed like a fish that had just been caught but Erik’s grip on her was stronger.

"No, Uncle Erik, no tickles!" she cried out.

He paused only for a moment to ask her a question that he probably already knew the answer to: “Do you still think Uncle Nadir and I are funny?” He was once again greeted by some rather enthusiastic nodding. Erik shrugged his shoulders before replying to her: “Well then. I guess it’s time to be tickled.”

One could barely make out the words she was saying in between her shrieks and giggles, but what I thought she said was something along the lines of, "No! Don't tickle me! Put me down, Uncle Erik!"

Erik must have heard the same thing as me as he walked her back over to the couch and hovered her over where she had been seated when the entire ordeal began. “Alright, you want to be put down?” he asked and, without hesitation, dropped her on the couch and walked back over to his seat, leaving her still a bundle of laughter between Adele and me.

"Now, that hopefully taught you a lesson. If not, more tickles are in order.” It seemed the standard now that his questions would be met with laughter from this girl. Erik, however, took it as a sign of confirmation: "Yes, that's what I thought. You're just going to giggle for the rest of the night now, aren't you?"

Gustave, who had been watching intently throughout the whole endeavour, chose that moment of all times to pipe up: “You instigated it, in her defence.”

"I'm not complaining about hearing her giggle. She's my goddaughter, I love hearing that. I'm just asking if it's going to proceed. I can still go after you, you know,” Erik said looking his son dead in the eyes. “Just because you’re older doesn’t make you immune. I know very well where you are ticklish, and I can - and will - take advantage of that"

Without missing a beat, Gustave turned to his wife and displayed the most manners I’d seen from him all afternoon: “Lara, if you’ll excuse me. I should probably start running.”

"I would agree with you, dear," she affirmed him. With that, he was out of the room and up the stairs before I could blink.

"He's a smart boy, that one. He's learned,” Erik said as he leaned back in his chair with a satisfied look on his face. “But not smart enough.”

“Aren’t you going to go get him?” I asked, genuinely curious as to why I wasn’t seeing a chasing match between them.

“I don’t think I will. The fact that I strike fear in him still is enough satisfaction for me.”

"Can we get back to the new couple in the room, please? I want to hear how you proposed, Nadir," Madeleine insisted as she brought the attention back to Adele and me.

“Oh alright. I suppose you won’t leave me alone about it until I tell you.”

"No, definitely not." I knew better than to fight her on that.

"From the start of this plan of mine, I knew it wasn't going to be easy,” I said as I looked at my wife and recalled just how different the worlds we came from truly were. “ Adele and I are different, which society frowns upon, and knowing that made me very nervous. I didn't want anything to go wrong.”

“He was terrified. He was shaking the whole time,” Adele pointed out.

I ran my fingers through my hair and tried to play off the embarrassment that was beginning to well up inside me. "Yes, I haven't been that nervous in a long time, I will admit."

“That must have been so sweet.” Madeleine was already so close to the edge of her seat that I feared that she might fall if she went any further.

My new bride seemed to be on a mission to point out all the mortifying details to our closest friends: "I thought so, at least. I'm sure he thought he was more embarrassed by how much he was shaking."

“Not my finest moment.”

"Oh, it was sweet, dear, don't worry about it,” she said and confirmed it by pressing a quick kiss to my cheek.

“What you saw was nothing compared to what I was like before I actually got down on one knee,” I said as I thought back to the multitude of near-panic moments before enlisting the help of Charles.

"Is that so? Well, tell us how it went then. I'd like to know too,” my wife prompted, listening just as intently as Maddie.

“Now I don’t know if I want to say anything,” I protested, knowing full well that she would probably make fun of me for it later on.

Madeleine looked instantly disappointed and began pleading with me. "Oh, please Nadir? Tell us, come on."

“We know you can’t say no to Maddie. I know you’ll say no to me at the drop of a hat,” Erik said, clearly enjoying watching the show of me trying to deny both of those stubborn ladies the story.

"That much is true. Not to mention that my wife is asking too, and I certainly can't say no to her."

“Then go on. Tell the story.” I realized then that I had nailed my own coffin shut with my last point.

"Alright, fine, fine. I'll tell the story.” I could only keep them at bay by going in circles for so long. “I had recruited Charles for help and after we had managed to pick out a ring, we needed to sort out a plan..."

* * *

_"What do I do, Charles?” I asked as I paced back and forth like a madman. Adele was out at her studio doing a class and I had enlisted the help of Charles, of all people. “I have no idea what to do."_

_“Well, you’ve been married before. How did you do it last time?” he asked. I fought back the urge to roll my eyes; clearly, he was not up to speed on the circumstances of my previous marriage._

_"I didn't plan it last time,” I said with a somewhat exasperated sigh. Even if I had proposed to my first wife, I wouldn’t want to do the same thing for Adele; she deserved something special and unique to match her beautiful personality. “It was an arranged marriage. Rookheya was given to me, for lack of a better term."_

_“Dear god. We’re starting from square one, aren’t we?” Finally, he was starting to look as nervous as I did._

_"Yes, we certainly are," I responded with some frantic nodding brought on by the nervous energy I was experiencing._

_He tried to refocus himself and put on a serious expression; up until that point, he had taken a more relaxed approach and I had been having a hard time trying to figure out if I liked it or not. “Alright. Do you have any ideas whatsoever?”_

_"Well, I wouldn't mind it happening outside. There's a park not far from with a beautiful willow tree.” I was already picturing it all in my head when I came across an obvious setback and looked down at my hands. “But I realize doing it outside...in public, that is, might be a problem."_

_“Indeed it could.” He had caught onto my train of thought; as much as our love should have been the only thing that mattered in the situation at hand, society was rather unkind to people who looked like me. “But you deserve to have this the way you want. If you’re comfortable with it, I could be there in case you get in trouble.”_

_"I'd appreciate that Charles, thank you. I just want this to go well."_

_“And it will,” he tried to reassure me._

_"I hope so. She deserves nothing less than perfection, and I want this to be no exception to that."_

_Clearly, he saw that I was heading down a path that would ultimately lead to my own ruin. “Don’t put so much pressure on yourself. I’m sure she’ll say yes, perfect or not.”_

_"I'd like to think so. I may be the better orator between me and Erik, but that doesn't mean I can get out coherent sentences when I'm this nervous." At the mention of him, I immediately realized that Erik was going to be rather peeved with me once he found out I had formed my proposal plan without him._

_“Do you want to practice what you want to say?” He said it so casually that I almost didn’t register it._

_"Practice? With you?" I genuinely had to ask to make sure I was hearing him correctly._

_Again, he was so casual that I couldn’t imagine that he was feeling the same level of discomfort that I was: “I don’t see why not.”_

_"It's slightly strange to do, but I suppose I can manage if I can just get my thoughts together." My brain was running wild with everything that I could potentially say at the moment and I had absolutely no idea how I was going to make it all come out in a coherent speech._

_Charles must have finally noticed my discomfort and decided to attempt to offer a potential solution: “Would it make it easier if you had a picture of her to look at?”_

_"I suppose it would. I actually have one with me; I put it in the locket I have, along with Rookheya's picture." I reached into my breast pocket and pulled out the silver locket that I made sure was on my person every day. I found that I was quite nervous to show it to Charles; the only other person I had ever shown it to, besides Reza decades ago, was Erik._

_“That’s very sweet. I’ve never heard you talk about her. You know, beyond the circumstances in which she came into your life,” Charles said as he looked at the two pictures side-by-side. It had just felt right to me to put them together in the locket; I loved them both with all my heart and it felt only fair that they should be next to one another, near to my heart._

_"Yes, well, it's...it's hard to talk about her, really. Losing her when we finally had our baby boy was incredibly difficult." Even at the mention of my son, I felt the emotions rising inside me. Even with those negative feelings of grief and guilt, a little glimmer of positivity stuck out; I had a gut feeling that Reza and Adele would have adored one another._

_“I can only imagine.”_

_"That's really why I don't mention her much. I can only keep my emotions to myself for so long, so I tend to keep it to myself."_

_“Well, if you need to talk, you know you won’t be judged by me.”_

_"Oh, I know. I would never worry about you judging me.” I started to scramble to change the subject sooner rather than later; I couldn’t bring myself to talk about her when I was planning a proposal. “I appreciate it, Charles, thank you."_

_My prayers were heard and Charles changed the subject for me: “It’s not a problem, Nadir. Now, back to the task at hand.”_

_"Yes, let's focus on that. Now I just need to figure out what to say."_

_“That shouldn’t be that hard. What words come to mind when you think of her?” He had prompted me with something so simple, but within seconds, it felt like I could go on for hours._

_"Too many to narrow down into a short speech. Beautiful, kind, generous, talented, brilliant. I could go on."_

_“Alright, you are of no help to me, and I’m already useless to begin with so this should get interesting.” He paused for a moment then and he almost resembled Erik in the sense that I could practically see the gears turning in his mind as he tried to think of a solution. “Oh, here’s an idea: what about the impact she has had on your life?”_

_"Well, a tremendous one. I...I haven't been this happy for years." Of course, it wasn’t as though I had been miserable before; the last few years had been made up of some of the happiest moments I had had in a long time; getting to spend time with Erik, seeing Gustave grow up, making new friends. I had simply begun to feel more complete with someone as wonderful as her in my life._

_Charles was seemingly satisfied with that comment, as he prodded me to continue that train of thought: “We can work with that. Keep going.”_

_"Okay, um...she makes me a better person, really.” It did feel rather awkward to be saying things of such a delicate nature when it was only Charles and me in the room, but he seemed to be pleased with the progress that was being made, so I continued. “She balances out the countless flaws I have and brings out the good parts of me. She makes me so happy, makes me laugh at the best moments and hugs me in the worst moments."_

_“There we go. After you say that, you should get on your knee and then keep talking. Some women need a moment to catch their breath when something like this happens so it would be good if you kept talking to give her that moment and make sure you get a response. I speak from experience; mistakes were made in the past.” He had said that with almost a twinge of regret in his voice, which only made me want to ask questions._

_"What did you do, Charles? What mistake did you make?" I inquired._

_His face turned bright red, clearly not enjoying the fact that whatever it was had been brought up. “I’d rather not discuss it. This is about you.”_

_"Fine, fine,” I said, resolving to bother him about it later on. “So get on one knee and keep talking to let her breathe. What do I talk about?"_

_“Just keep going with that idea we were working with. Then maybe add in how happy you would be if she said yes.”_

_"Right, okay." I remembered then why I had brought the locket out in the first place and decided to try that method instead. "What about something along the lines of, 'I cannot imagine not having you by my side to make me the best I can be, so I would be honoured if you were to take this ring and call yourself my wife.' Is that good? Or does that sound ridiculous?"_

_“It’s great, Nadir. You’re going to take her completely by surprise.” He seemed almost as giddy as Maddie would have been; those two were truly perfect for one another. “Is this helping your nerves?”_

_"Slightly. I just hope I don't screw up and say something stupid at the moment." I didn’t want to get lost in my shot nerves at the moment and say something that would spoil the entire ordeal._

_“Trust me, it doesn’t get worse than me. Maddie still tells our engagement story as a comedy routine.” The redness was beginning to return to the tips of his ears at the mere thought of it. One’s engagement was supposed to be something that one remembered forever, for better or worse, though it was clearly the latter in Charles’ case._

_"You still aren't going to tell me what you did, are you?"_

_“Oh, no. I’ll let you use your imagination,” he said as he shook his head._

_"Fantastic. That's always fun, so I can just assume you set something on fire.” The look on his face was enough to tell me that my plot to toy with him was working. “But back to the matter at hand…I think what I'm going to say is sorted now, as well as where. When is the question now."_

_“Well, do you two have any important dates coming up?”_

_"Um...the first anniversary of when the two of us reunited in Switzerland is coming up soon. Very soon, in fact,” I said with a small smile. I would always consider that to be one of the best decisions I had ever made in my life._

_“That is perfect.”_

_"Yes, I think so too. We'll have a special dinner, go for a walk down to that park nearby. Then I'll ask her." I was beginning to find myself getting more excited about the impending proposal rather than nervous; I was starting to wish that I didn’t have to wait to ask her._

_“Wonderful. Do you still want me at the park when it happens?”_

_He raised a good point; it would be very simple for someone out of my control to try and spoil things, so I was going to need all the help I could get. "I think it would be wise, just in case anyone decides to make a scene."_

_“Well then, I’ll be right there. This is going to be perfect, Nadir. I know that for sure.”_

_~_

_After some more meticulous planning, the night had finally arrived. We’d had a lovely dinner, though it had been difficult to find a nice restaurant that would take us after hearing my name. Once I had found a place and we had arrived for our reservation, it was nearly impossible to avoid the looks we were getting for the entire meal from the other patrons, but I was not about to let their pettiness spoil what I had planned, so when we finished our meal, we made our way to the park I had told Charles about._

_"Nadir, what are you doing?" I heard Adele ask. I realized that I must have had a stupid looking grin on my face as we approached the weeping willow tree that had prompted her to question me. We were arm-in-arm and I knew that it was the right moment; it felt like the most natural thing in the world._

_I quickly came up with a half-decent cover story that would allow me to flow into my plan: “Just lost in thought.”_

_"Oh? And what are you thinking about tonight?" she inquired._

_“I was thinking about how it has been one year since we reunited in Switzerland and how I think that might have been the best day of my life. Adele, I hope you know that I love you with words beyond what I am capable of expressing with my vocabulary. You make me happier than I have been in a very long time.” I had gotten down on one knee by that point, completely rewriting what I had initially wanted to say, but, glancing up at her, it looked like I had taken her breath away. It even took me a moment to collect myself after fidgeting with the ring box that was now shaking in my hands. “Adele Giry, I know that our story has never been normal and that is one of my favourite things about it. If you’ll do me the honour of becoming my wife, I hope to continue writing this story because I would really like to see how it ends.”_

_Before she spoke, she nodded her head, but I didn’t truly believe it until those magical words left her mouth: "Nadir...yes. Yes, of course."_

_“Really?” I was genuinely shocked, and two thoughts ran through my mind; someone needed to pinch me and bring me back to reality, or she was going to snap out of whatever daze she was in and I would find out that it was all an elaborate ruse. “Oh my goodness. I love you so much.”_

_"What do you mean really, you ridiculous man? You didn't think I'd say yes?" I couldn’t tell if she was laughing at me or giggling with joy, so I decided that it was probably an even mixture of the two._

_“I thought I was dreaming.” A completely true statement, but my comment was met with a swift response of her pinching me on the arm. Not enough to truly hurt - though I was in such a state of euphoria that I don't believe I would have been able to feel it if it did hurt - but it was enough to ensure that I was awake after all._

_“Do you believe it now?” she asked with a beautiful wide smile on her face._

_"Yes. Yes, I do,” I replied as I felt a smile grow on my own face as well. However, that blissful moment was interrupted when we ran into some difficulty as I attempted to put the ring on her finger; my hands were still shaking so badly that it took much longer than necessary, but once it was on, Adele gripped my hands tightly as I stood up._

_When we were eye-to-eye once more, she still had a gorgeous smile on her face, though her eyes conveyed the fact that she was very real and very serious at that moment. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere,” she affirmed to me._

_"Please don't. I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here anymore."_

_“You’ll never have to find out.” Her words made me feel the safest I’d felt in such a long time. She was my constant and she wasn’t going anywhere._

_"Thank goodness for that,” I said and I meant it with all my heart. “I love you so much, Adele."_

_“I love you too,” was all I needed to hear from her before we kissed. It was all perfect, just as I had wanted it to be._

_That was until we were rudely interrupted by someone who felt it was their duty to go messing around in other people’s lives. “Why are you wasting time with someone like him? You should reassess your standards,” he called out to Adele from the path a little ways away from us._

_I had hoped that Adele wouldn’t respond; it would all go more smoothly if we just ignored him. At the same time, I knew who I was marrying and it was no surprise to me when she shot back at him: "I beg your pardon?"_

_“I asked you a question.” He spoke in such slurred words that it was a little hard to tell whether he was drunk or about to experience a stroke. “Why are you wasting your time with someone like that? Why don’t you come with me and I’ll show you how a lady should be treated?”_

_“A lady knows that someone low enough to make such advances isn’t worth her time,” she replied._

_I didn’t want her to fight the battle on her own, so I knew I had to speak up. "Sir, we had no intention to disturb you, but I don't see the need to make comments of that nature," I interjected._

_“I’m not talking to you. Now miss, I didn’t hear an answer on my offer?” He was acting as if I was nothing more than a spectre in the air._

_"My answer is no. I am perfectly content where I am.” She linked her arm through mine as she spoke. “With someone that I know will treat me like a lady."_

_The man seemed to be on a mission to act like I wasn’t standing right next to Adele the entire time. “And who would that be?” he asked._

_“She is referring to the man you weren’t talking to.” Even I was getting fed up with his ignorance at that point._

_"You?” he scoffed. With that declaration, I was able to confirm one of my two theories as to his affliction, though I will admit to some disappointment in which of the options it turned out to be; the man must have a very good understanding of what the bottom of a whiskey glass looked like. “Somehow I find that difficult to believe."_

_“Well frankly, I don’t give a damn what you believe.” I could tell that she was getting confrontational now, though, in all honesty, I knew that she was capable of incapacitating him without my help._

_He gestured vaguely in my general area before speaking again: "Come on. You know you can't trust his sort of people."_

_He was drawing close to my last nerve. I could handle the looks in the restaurant, the shocked gasps I’d heard from onlookers as I proposed, even everything he had said up until now. But that...that was cutting it too close. It was one thing to gawk and stare or even to make off-hand comments, but to disrespect my people as a whole was something I did not take lightly. It made me wonder if that imbecile had ever attended a decent history class in his life. If he had, he would have known that, without my culture and my people, his precious England wouldn’t have a leg to stand on._

_“And what sort of people is that, sir?" I demanded._

_“I don’t need to explain myself to you,” he spat back at me. “And I don’t remember this conversation even including you. Backwards thinking lowlife.”_

_I’d had it and I could see that Adele had as well, as she made an attempt to run up to the man but I caught her by the waist just in time. “Adele, don't,” I said softly. As much as I hated to admit it, I had heard all of those remarks before and I knew that he wasn’t worth our time and energy._

_“You let him address you by your first name?” He seemed genuinely offended for her as if it was a great injustice._

_"Why would I not allow him to do that?" she asked. She had stopped pulling on my arm to try and get me to release her, but that wasn’t about to stop her from destroying him with words._

_“Are you blind?” the man said, gesturing vaguely to me once again._

_"I'm not, no. I still fail to see why I would have to make him address me only by my surname." Her plan seemed to be to try and make him recognize his own ignorance by asking him a series of questions. I knew that plan; I’d even tried that plan once upon a time, but I knew that it rarely ever worked._

_“Adele, he isn’t worth our time,” I spoke softly to her._

_I could tell that she was slightly surprised to find that I was the one that was trying to deescalate the whole situation, considering the fact that I really was the victim in the end. “I will not let him disrespect us like this,” she replied._

_“I’m used to it, dear,” I tried to explain, even though I knew that she would probably request that I go into further detail when we got home. “But please, he really isn’t worth it.”_

_"Nadir, you can't let people do this to you. It's wrong, I don't want you to deal with this." It warmed my heart to see that she was standing up for me, but I really didn’t want the situation to escalate any further than it already had._

_“And I appreciate that, but please, let’s not let this ruin today,” I said as I applied slight pressure to her engagement ring on her finger._

_With a deep sigh, she agreed to leave the man to his out-of-date thought process. "Fine, fine. I'll leave it, even if I really don't want to."_

_“Thank you. I appreciate that,” I said as I kissed her cheek._

_The man clearly didn’t like the small public display of affection, as he started to roll up his sleeves with a wave of rising anger as he spoke: “Someone needs to remind him of his place if he thinks he can give you instructions.”_

_“If anyone here should be reminded of their place, it is you. I have been higher up in the society of a true empire than you could ever dream.” I realized that if I was going to walk away from the ignoramus I was faced with at present, I was going to have the last word. “Now, if I recall, nobody asked for your opinion on our lives. If you’ll excuse us, the lady has made herself quite clear, so if you could just leave us alone that would be lovely. Have a good evening.”_

_As we walked away hand-in-hand, Adele made a point of leaning on my shoulder. "I appreciate you trying to help, dear. I just don't want you to get into a bad situation, you know that," I said, trying to help her make sense of the fact that I hadn’t wanted to confront the man further._

_“But I hope you know I was more than capable of dealing with him. I handled worse in America, he would have been nothing,” she replied. That statement only affirmed my hypothesis that she could have easily toppled him without assistance from me._

_"I know you can handle yourself.” I didn’t want her to think that I thought she was incapable of saving herself when I knew the reality was quite the opposite. “I just never want to risk you being in a situation where you might get hurt."_

_“Thank you, love. It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone want to protect me.” She leaned a bit heavier on my shoulder and nuzzled into the crook of my neck slightly while I looked back briefly to see that Charles had stepped in to make sure that the man didn’t follow us._

_I pressed a quick kiss to the top of Adele’s head and smiled as I looked down at our hands intertwined. They were just a perfect fit for one another, like two pieces of a puzzle that had gotten misplaced into different boxes; though it may have taken a long time to be put together again, the picture, when completed, was something beautiful._

_"Well, I'm always going to protect you. I can promise you that much," I whispered._

_“I can’t wait.”_

* * *

"And now, here we are. Interruptions or not, she said yes," I said, smiling wide as I absentmindedly ran my thumb over Adele's engagement ring and wedding band. Recounting the issues we had faced on the night of our engagement - the sheer intolerance of others - wasn't the easiest thing to do, but knowing that I had my wife by my side despite that made it a simple task to forget all of that.

"And I am very happy that I did," Adele said as she smiled at me and set her other hand over mine.

I turned my attention back to our friends then, chuckling at the content grin on Maddie's face. "My god, that's so sweet," she said. "Still, I'm so sorry that you had to put up with that awful man, Nadir. That's horrible."

"Unfortunately, that isn't the first time I've heard comments of that nature, and that said, I've had to deal with worse than him," I replied, looking at Erik. "Remember that man I had in a chokehold back in Paris one of these nights that you actually left your cave to visit me, Erik?"

"How could I forget?" Erik asked with a chuckle. "He did have it coming, truthfully, and while it was fun to watch him get what he deserved, it was _my_ turn to prevent _you_ from going to jail for once."

"Is that yet another story that you two have never told me?" we heard someone ask, and turning my head, I noticed Gustave as he walked back into the room, clearly through with hiding from his father.

Erik smirked as he glanced at his son over his shoulder. "Well, given that you don't know the details, it seems that way, yes," he said. "Decided to join us again, did you?"

"Yes, I figured I was safe from you tickling me by this point," Gustave replied, standing beside his father's armchair. "What did I miss?"

"The whole engagement story," Madeleine said.

"What?!" I couldn't help but chuckle at Gustave, particularly when Erik turned and scolded him in French, probably for how loud he was being. "Sorry, Papa, but I'm disappointed that I missed the story."

"It was adorable, love, but I'll tell you when we get home," Lara promised.

With a huff, Gustave walked over to the sofa to sit next to his wife. "Fine. I guess that'll do," he muttered, a slight pout on his face that was enough to make Erik roll his eyes when he noticed.

"It's your own fault. I know where you hide, so if I hadn't come after you within the first two minutes, you should have known it was safe," his father said.

"You don't know where I hide," Gustave retorted.

Erik chuckled and smiled over at his son. "The big bottom shelf of the linen closet down the hall. You'd move all the towels and things to the other shelves so you could tuck yourself in and hide," he said.

"You never knew when I was a kid! You'd always give up!"

"Oh, I knew. I'd just get tired of pretending not to find you."

Gustave rolled his eyes and leaned back on the sofa, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're no fun," he mumbled.

"You were always so happy when you thought you'd beaten me," Erik said, a fond smile on his face as he recalled his son's childhood. "I didn't want to take that from you."

"Alright, that's true. I always loved that part. Your overly enthusiastic reaction when I popped out was always the best," Gustave said.

"You see? Now you can't be mad," Erik replied.

Gustave shook his head. "Oh, I'll still be mad. I just won't do anything about it."

"You'll get over it, now stop pouting."

"I'll think about it." Gustave's disposition changed quickly, however, when Lara gave him a swift slap to the back of the head. "Okay, I'm over it."

Erik smirked and gave Lara a wink. "That's what I thought."

"Whatever, that aside," Gustave said as he rubbed the back of his head. "Is there a reason why none of us got to go to the wedding, Uncle Nadir? If there is, it's alright, but I think we all would have loved to have been there."

I sighed, realizing that he had no idea of just why my marriage to Adele was so problematic to so many people. "I know you're disappointed, and so are we, but we realized that a ceremony wasn't something we could do."

"That you _could_ do? What do you mean? What problems would there have been?" Gustave inquired.

"I need you to think about it. As much as all of us in this room know that there is no difference between Adele and me, any venue would have refused to host us," I said.

"All because you're from Persia and not Europe like the rest of us? That's ridiculous."

I couldn't help but smile; it was a welcome change for someone to be so baffled by the intolerance of someone like myself for the colour of my skin. Still, it was easy to be amused by just how clueless he was. "No, Gustave. I am not a Christian," I explained. "So because Adele is, while I am of the Muslim faith, neither of our religions would have permitted a ceremony."

"Oh," Gustave said, wearing the same thoughtful frown that he shared with his father. "It's really that much of a problem for there to be a marriage between people of two different faiths?"

"It shouldn't be, and we all recognize that, but unfortunately, many, if not most people, see otherwise; religious leaders included," Adele replied, then turned to me and smiled warmly. "But we went to City Hall and signed our papers, exchanged our vows and rings, so legally, we are married."

"Well, the church has always looked down on those who are different; I know it all too well. But with their approval or not, to the government, you are married, and you wear the rings you exchanged on your fingers," Erik said. "Your love speaks volumes."

Lara nodded firmly, and I knew she was passionate about the subject; I could tell from the look on her face alone. "Societal conventions be damned, you two are happy and that's what matters,” she added.

"My sentiments exactly," Erik replied.

"As much as you two deserved a ceremony, if they don't want you, then you don't need them. Your relationship doesn't need their validation," Gustave said.

I felt Adele squeeze my hand, and I turned to see her giving me another smile. "I agree wholeheartedly. Being able to wear my wedding ring and say I am married to the most wonderful man is worth more than any ceremony," she said. She leaned forward then and gave me a gentle kiss, both of us smiling through it as the two of us undoubtedly considered how fortunate we were to have each other.

"Well, just because you couldn't have a ceremony doesn't mean that we shouldn't have a celebration," we heard Erik say as we pulled apart. "I say we should do something tonight. I'll make dinner, we can pick up a cake, and we can have a small reception right here."

Before Adele or I could reply, Madeleine had jumped up and was dragging her husband to his feet. "I can go get the cake! Come on, Charles!" she exclaimed.

"Gustave and I will set up some decorations in the dining room," Lara added with a smile.

"Oh, we don't have to do it now," I said in a weak attempt to protest.

"Of course we're doing it now!" I heard Madeleine call from the front foyer; when she'd gotten there, I had no idea. "You two, go home and get dressed in your best clothes. This is our wedding gift to you."

"Can I stay here, Mommy? I want to help Uncle Erik make dinner," Elizabeth said as she ran over to her godfather and hopped onto his lap.

"If it's alright with him, then it's alright with me."

"Yes, it's fine with me," Erik replied, chuckling as Elizabeth pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Now go on, go get the cake. Have fun."

Charles scoffed from where he stood in the doorway to the parlour. "She's going to a bakery, it's impossible for her _not_ to have fun. My mission now is to keep her from buying every cake in there," he said.

"That's a tall order, but do try your best."

"I will, I will. We'll be back soon."

With a nod, Erik looked back at me and Adele and smiled. "Go get all dressed up so we can make this the reception you deserved. I'm going to start dinner with this little princess," he said, gesturing to Elizabeth, who he was bouncing on his leg as he spoke.

"Wear the steel grey suit, Uncle Nadir!" I heard Gustave call from the dining room.

"You are all too kind to be doing this on such short notice. Come on, love, let's go get ready," Adele said as she got to her feet.

"Yes, I'm coming, dear," I said, standing up with her and wrapping my arm around her waist. "Thank you, all of you. This is very nice of you to do."

"You're family, you needn't thank us," Erik said, only to laugh to himself. "Besides, don't be premature; you have no idea if this will end up messy or not."

I chuckled and shot him a smile. "Somehow, I have a feeling it's going to turn out just fine."

* * *

A short while later, Adele and I walked up the front steps of Erik's house, dressed for the occasion as we had been instructed; me in my steel grey suit, Adele in a deep navy blue dress and her hair out of the braids for a change. "I don't know what to expect when we get in there," I said with a quiet laugh, turning to my wife for her input.

"People who care about us doing something wonderfully unexpected," Adele replied, a smile on her face.

I couldn't help but return the gesture, admiring both her beautiful smile and her poetic words. "Yes, I'd agree with that. I do know that it's going to be lovely."

Adele nodded, setting her hand on my chest as she leaned over and gave me a gentle kiss. Vouching to make everyone wait an extra moment, I wrapped my arm around her to pull her closer as I returned her kiss, still feeling my heart flutter at the perfect feeling of her lips against my own.

"We should probably go inside now," Adele said as she pulled away, a content smile on her face and her cheeks flushed slightly.

"Should we? We can't just stay here and kiss for the rest of the night?" I teased, pressing another quick kiss to her lips.

"We can later, but for now, we have to go inside."

I raised my eyebrows at the comment, feeling my own cheeks flush as I realized what it was that she was implying. "Right, o-okay," I stuttered as I lifted my hand and knocked on the door.

Adele laughed quietly as she kissed my cheek, but our attention was quickly drawn to the doorway as the front door opened and we were met with a chorus of "Congratulations!" All of our friends - our family - stood in the front foyer of Erik's home, all dressed up in their best clothing as if they were indeed attending a wedding reception. Elizabeth stood in front of them all, tossing little flower petals from the same basket she had used as the flower girl in Lara and Gustave's wedding.

I felt Adele slip her arm through mine as she leaned her head on my shoulder while I couldn't help but laugh and shake my head fondly at the group of our friends. "You are all too much, really," I said.

"Oh, you both deserve it, Nadir," Madeleine said, stepping through the doorway to hug me. "We want to celebrate this with you two."

"Well, thank you. It's very kind of all of you," I said, turning my head when Adele left my side and smiling as I saw her bent down to greet Elizabeth as she ran into her arms.

"Thank you very much, Elizabeth," Adele said, hugging the little girl tightly. "Your little flowers are beautiful."

Elizabeth smiled as she looked down at her flower basket. "I think so too," she said. "I wanted to bring my basket because I wanted to be the flower girl when you guys got married."

"And we would have loved nothing more, sweetheart, but what you've done for us now is perfect," I added, smiling as Elizabeth wrapped her arms around my leg.

"Okay, come in, come in! We want you to see what we did for your party!" the girl exclaimed, grabbing me and Adele by the hands and tugging us through the front door, clearly fed up with the greetings.

"Alright, we're coming," I said with a chuckle.

"Come faster, Uncle Nadir, come on!"

Erik laughed as he watched his goddaughter pull my wife and me along. "You heard the lady, Daroga. Move faster," he said.

"At least she knows how to get things done," Adele said with a laugh. "She's an efficient little girl."

"Further proof that she is my daughter," Madeleine piped up, her pride evident in her voice and almost daring her husband to object, which he, wisely, did not.

I laughed to myself as Elizabeth pulled me and Adele into the dining room, where we found it decorated for the occasion; gold and white streamers had been pinned to the walls, and the two chairs that had been put at the head of the table had been designated for us with folded paper flowers at the place settings. A spread of food had been set on the table; there was so much that I didn't see how Erik had managed to get it all done in time. What caught my attention the most, though, was seeing Ayesha sitting on the corner of the table, a gold bow wrapped around her collar, while Sasha barked at her from the ground, her own pink bows braided into the fur of her ears.

"The cat is a very nice touch," I remarked.

I heard Erik groan as he stepped past us and lifted Ayesha off of the table. "She thinks she runs this house, I swear," he said, scratching the cat under the chin. "But the cat aside, I do hope you both like all of this."

"Oh, of course, we do. It's lovely, everyone, thank you," Adele said as she turned around to properly thank and hug our group of friends.

"This was just thrown together last minute. Imagine what we could have done with more time," Erik said.

"I'm sure it would be beautiful, but somehow, I have a feeling this impromptu party is even better than what that would have turned out to be," I said as I wrapped an arm around him and patted his back.

"Not to mention that it wouldn't have been as fun," Charles pointed out. "The chaos made it enjoyable."

I noticed Erik roll his eyes at the comment, clearly not keen on the 'chaos' being mentioned. "I thought we agreed not to talk about the chaos, Charles. Just let this be enjoyable."

"It was good chaos. Besides, Maddie nearly killed you. It was hilarious."

"Yes, that's the part I don't want to discuss."

I looked up at him with a frown, immediately trying to think of what idiotic decision Erik could have made to tempt Madeleine to commit murder. "What did you do?" I inquired.

"I nearly collided with her when she walked into the house with the cake," Erik explained.

"Ah, I see. I understand why she would have wanted to kill you," I said with a nod. "Getting between Madeleine and her baked goods is not a good idea."

"You see? He understands, _Erik,"_ Madeleine said as she shot our friend a pointed glare.

"Yes, I know, but I apologized and lived to tell the tale. I am here to see the happy couple enjoy their private reception," Erik replied.

I smiled, turning to glance over my shoulder as Adele wrapped her arms around my waist from behind. "And a private reception, in my opinion, is much better than having a large group of people in some fancy hall. This is family and that's what matters," she said.

"I would say so as well," I said with a nod. "Now, I hate to break up this lovely chat, but could we eat? The meal that Erik and Elizabeth cooked smells delicious, I'm starving, and I want to see Madeleine's cake afterwards."

"On that, we can agree, Uncle," Gustave piped up.

"Alright, well, everyone sit down. Nadir, you and your wife can sit at the head of the table, where your seats are marked by the lovely flowers that Lizzie and Lara made," Erik said as he gestured to the seats in question.

"How special," I said with a smile.

Erik nodded, pulling out Adele's chair for her so she could take a seat. "That was the aim of this entire event, after all; to give you two the special night that you deserve. Now sit down, Daroga, and we'll serve you your dinner."

* * *

The dinner with just the eight of us was more perfect than any formal, structured wedding reception could have ever been. We laughed together, harder than we had in a long time, what with Erik telling my wife any and every embarrassing story about me that came to his mind. Compliments for Erik's cooking came from all around the table and he brushed them off, attributing the meal's success to following a recipe, but I could see his proud smile despite that. Elizabeth talked away to all of us, going on and on about any subject that crossed her mind; cooking with Erik, her father's antics at home, the tea party she'd had most recently with her stuffed bears. In the end, we had all laughed so hard we had cried at least once, and Adele had stolen my handkerchief for exactly that purpose. Still, laughing so hard that we couldn't breathe was the perfect way for my wife and me to celebrate our wedding; good stories, good food, and great friends. We couldn't have asked for anything better.

Once the dishes from dinner had been cleared and tea and coffee were served, Erik got to his feet with a smile. "Just before we begin dessert, I would like to say a few words,” he said.

Anxiety immediately ran through me; what else could he have to say? Was it possible he could embarrass me in front of my wife even more?

He must have noticed me considering how I could kill him if the need arose, as he chuckled and said, "I know that you might be afraid of the things I could say, Nadir, but no need to worry; I'm not going to go too deep into our interesting past.

"Now that I think about it, that is a perfect word to describe our friendship; interesting. We have known each other far longer than I care to admit at the risk of giving away how old we are, but in those years, I don't think I’ve seen you as happy as you are when you are with Adele. To you, Madame, I cannot thank you enough for being there for him; I know that it takes a lot for him to trust someone so deeply, if at all, so I know you are truly special if he trusts you with all that he is. Believe me when I say he is going to give you everything you could ever want and so much more; he is going to treasure you, love you, and protect you, no matter what he needs to do to make that happen."

I felt Adele reach over and hold my hand, resting our interlocked hands on my leg. Looking over at her, I returned the warm smile she was giving me before turning back to Erik and finding him watching us; he looked content and genuinely happy for the two of us, and yet I caught a glimpse of the sadness in his eyes that he hadn't been able to hide from me since before the party had even begun.

"I hope you know that this is all I have ever wanted for you, Nadir: pure happiness," he continued. "When we met, I remember looking at you and being able to tell, clear as day, that your world was falling apart, no matter how much you tried to hide it; but looking at you now, I can tell that you are whole once again. I could never hope to imagine what would have become of me if you hadn't dragged me out of Russia to Persia all those years ago, nor could I have survived Paris without you checking in on me as you did. Not to mention that Gustave would not have turned out to be half the man that he is today without your help.

"You are more than my best friend; you are my brother, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I wish you all the best with this new chapter in your life, and I hope that we can continue to be there for each other through thick and thin."

Everyone clapped as Erik finished his speech, but I was too busy trying to discreetly dry my eyes to pay any attention to it. The person that noticed first was Adele, of course, as she laughed quietly and brushed a tear from my cheek before giving me a gentle kiss. I hadn't expected to cry, but I also hadn't anticipated such heartfelt expressions to come from Erik. Not that he was incapable of making sentimental statements, but for him to direct them towards me was practically unheard of, which had left me unprepared for the speech.

As I tried to regain my composure, I prayed Erik, of all people, wouldn't notice, but my hopes were dashed when he gasped and exclaimed, "Did I make you cry? I did! I am taking this as an absolute win."

"You're such an idiot sometimes, I swear," I said, taking my handkerchief back from Adele to dry my face.

"You know you love him," Adele said, laughing quietly as she took the handkerchief, tucked it into my pocket, and kissed my cheek.

"I know I do, that's why I'm crying," I replied, getting to my feet and hugging Erik; another thing we didn't do very often. "Thank you, my friend."

"Of course. You deserve it," Erik replied, his voice quiet so only I could hear him, then he patted my back and pulled away. "Alright, enough hugging. It's sentimental enough between us right now, it's bizarre."

I laughed as I took my seat beside my wife again. "It is, yes. I'm not sure how to process it."

"Erik, that was so beautiful. I nearly started crying myself," Lara said.

"Oh, I don't want to make you cry," Erik said quickly. "That's never my aim."

I scoffed and looked at him with a frown. "But I'm fair game?"

"You've always been fair game, Nadir. But right now, knowing that something I said managed to tug at your heartstrings rather than annoy you is quite the achievement for me."

"A rarity, I imagine," Adele remarked.

"Indeed, which is why I rejoice that it's happened," Erik replied.

I saw Madeleine rolling her eyes at our bickering, but I wasn't shocked; we could be difficult at times. "You two are children," she said.

"We know. Pestering each other keeps us young," Erik explained.

"Yes Papa, as you've explained multiple times," Gustave said dryly.

"I'm simply reiterating it," Erik retorted. "Still, our friendship was basically built on pestering, so we've kept that up. I drove him mad in Persia."

Charles laughed as he helped Elizabeth to take a sip from her small cup of tea. "I can only imagine what he must have been like when he was younger."

"A nightmare," I immediately replied. No point in hesitating when I had an answer right away.

Erik looked at me then and glared at me. "You were no walk in the park either, you know."

"At least I wasn't a sewer gremlin," I muttered, picking up my coffee cup to take a sip. I paused, though, when I noticed Madeleine practically spit out her tea when she processed my comment before she swallowed hard and burst out laughing.

Glancing back at Erik, I smirked when I saw his jaw hanging open. "I am both offended and impressed," he said.

"I'm not wrong. I was simply stating a fact," I said, determined to defend my comment.

"I never said you were wrong, Daroga. I was simply caught off guard."

"I can tell."

"We can all tell," Gustave piped up.

Erik sighed and waved everyone off. "Alright, alright, I get it, thank you. Maddie, dear, get a hold of yourself and let's go back to talking about our happy couple. I made Nadir cry and I'm pleased with myself," he said.

"Of course you are," I said, shaking my head as I turned to my wife and smiled when I found her to still be laughing as well. "Darling, take a breath."

"I will, I just...that is one of my favourite descriptions of the Opera Ghost days," she said, taking a breath and wiping tears from the corners of her eyes.

"I was not a gremlin," Erik said, suddenly wanting to try and make a case for himself.

"You only came out at night, caused utter chaos, and cringed at the thought of sunlight. You were a gremlin," Adele replied.

Erik started to reply, only to stop himself and shake his head. "Again, why are we still talking about me? This is _your_ night, not mine, stop it."

"Well, we both enjoy poking fun at you, so this is fine," I said with a shrug.

"Right, and the fact that I'm not fond of it doesn't matter at all, I assume," Erik replied.

"You want us to enjoy ourselves, don't you?" Adele asked, quickly joining in the effort to tease our friend.

"I do, yes, though I wish it didn't entail pestering me."

"Alright, fine, we'll ease up."

I frowned as I looked at my wife. "Well, now I'm disappointed," I teased.

"Oh, don't be. We're going to have a lovely night even if we don't get to bother Erik," Madeleine said, quickly putting the issue to rest.

"Mommy, can we eat the cake now?" Elizabeth asked from where she now sat on Gustave's lap. Clearly, she'd been waiting for the right moment to make her request and had found it.

"She has the right idea," Gustave said, nodding along with Charles as both obviously shared the little girl's sentiments regarding the cake.

"Alright, I'll get the cake to appease the children," Lara said as she got to her feet and walked to the kitchen counter, laughing at the chorus of 'thank you's’ that followed.

Adele smiled as Lara brought the cake over and set it down in front of us. "Oh, look, dear. It says _Congratulations Adele and Nadir_ ," she observed. "That's so sweet, Madeleine."

"I'm glad you think so. I didn't know what kind of cake you two liked, so I decided to go with simple chocolate with strawberries on top," Madeleine replied.

"That's just perfect. Thank you," I said as I shot her a smile.

Pieces of cake were quickly served to everyone, and while Elizabeth immediately dug into her slice, Lara requested us: "You two have to break off a piece and feed it to each other!"

I laughed and turned to Adele to ask if she wanted to do that, but found her already breaking a piece of her slice of cake off with her fingers. "Alright then, we'll do it, I suppose." I offered the piece of cake I had broken off to her, smiling as she delicately took it between her teeth into her mouth and hummed in contentment as she did.

"Well, it seems like it's-" I began, only to pause and gasp when my wife went to feed me my piece but smeared it on my mouth and chin as she did. "Adele! Why?!"

"Why not?" she replied through her laughter.

"Oh, you're ridiculous," I said, reaching up with my hand to assess the damage. "Love, it's all over my face; it's in my beard now too."

Still laughing, Adele wiped off my mouth with a napkin before she leaned over to hug me. "I love you so much," she whispered in my ear, then pulled away from our embrace to kiss me. And at that moment, chocolate and strawberries had never tasted so sweet.

* * *

As the party was winding down, it seemed like an appropriate time to make sure I kept the promise I’d made to myself. Erik wasn’t himself and I needed to make sure he was alright. Charles and Madeleine had left earlier, since Lizzie was getting tired, and Gustave and Lara had left shortly after, so it had just been Adele, Erik and myself. He was acting truly odd and once it was only the three of us, he didn’t put as much effort into hiding it. At one point he got up rather abruptly, said goodbye and went upstairs, even though he would normally wait for us to be out the door. Something was wrong and I needed to make sure that he was going to be safe for the night.

"I just want to speak to Erik for a moment before we leave," I said to Adele as she was putting on her shoes. “He hasn't been himself tonight, which I'm sure you might have noticed."

“Of course I noticed. He was acting strangely.”

"No, he certainly wasn't. I'll just check on him quickly and then we can make our way home." I was looking up the stairs as I spoke, knowing I was going to be met with a lot of defiance when I got up there. Erik didn’t like having people ask questions about how he was, but sometimes necessity outweighed his comfort.

“I’m happy to wait. We have all the time in the world.”

I kissed her on the cheek and started up the stairs. “Thank you, dear,” I called back before she was out of earshot.

When I reached the second floor, I found that his bedroom was empty, as was Gustave's, but I finally found him when I peeked my head in his study. He’d poured himself a glass of whiskey and was simply sitting at his desk, staring at a gold band on a chain. I had a rough idea of what it was, based solely on the fact that I’d only ever seen him look that same way once before.

“Erik? What are you doing up here?” I asked.

He didn’t even look up to reply; it was almost like he was expecting me to come up. “I’m fine. Just thinking,” he muttered.

“You’ve been doing a lot of that tonight, haven’t you? I’m surprised the fire department wasn’t called from all the smoke coming out of your ears.” I had tried to lighten him up with a joke, but he wasn’t having it; clearly, there was no other way than to just be blunt with him. “You tried to tell me you were fine earlier, but I know very well that you aren’t.”

“I promise, nothing is wrong.” He went to pick up his drink but I grabbed the glass and kept it out of his reach. I needed him as sober as possible if I wanted coherent answers.

“Erik. I know you better than that. Talk to me.”

He was no idiot; he knew that I wasn't going to let the matter go until he spoke. After a deep sigh, he finally started to speak: “I’m happy for you, I swear I am. But at times like this, I just miss her so much.”

“I’m sorry, Erik. I know you do." I put his drink back where it was and, without hesitation, he took a sip, which made me think of another question: “You know, I have to wonder. Why is it that whenever I find you missing her, you tend to have a drink nearby?”

“It might sound foolish, but if anyone is going to understand, it would be you.” He downed what was left in his glass and continued to stare at the ring. “You know that indescribable feeling of warmth that comes from having the love of your life look at you like you are the only person in the world that matters?”

I thought back to Adele who was sitting downstairs, waiting for me so that we could go back to our home. I didn’t have the heart to give him a verbal answer, so I simply nodded.

“I’ve come to find that when I drink this,” he explained, running his fingers along the rim of the glass. ”It gives me a warm feeling. It’s not the same; nothing ever will be. I suppose you could say that I’m looking for it again.”

“Erik, I know what you’re trying to say. But I swear to you, you won’t find what you’re looking for at the bottom of a glass.” His point actually made me wonder about Lara’s uncle, the Vicomte. Perhaps he had turned to alcohol looking for the same thing Erik was.

“I suppose you’re right. Still, it can’t hurt to try every once in a while.” He got up and put the glass back with the decanter, then sat back down and continued his staring contest with the ring on the desk. “This isn’t your fault in any stretch of the imagination. A lot of memories just get stirred up when things like this happen.”

“I would imagine so. Do you need to talk about it? I’m right here if you feel you do.” I was trying to prod him further to get to the brunt of his problem, and it seemed to have worked.

“It just reminds me of how much she deserved to see, but she hasn’t," he blurted out. “She would have loved to have seen you and Adele so happy, and seeing you all so happy in your relationships just makes me feel so lonely. I’m not saying I want to find someone new; nobody could ever replace her. Still, seeing you and Adele, Gustave and Lara, Maddie and Charles...all that does is remind me of what I’ve lost. I do hope I’m not ruining your night by saying this.”

“No, you aren’t ruining anything. Don't worry about that, it’s okay. Better that you tell me what’s running through your mind. I don't want to leave you alone here if it’s all bottled up inside; I don't want something to happen to you because of that." I knew him; that was why he hated talking about his feelings. Despite my best efforts, he always felt like he was a burden to everyone around him.

“Nothing was going to happen. Maybe having one more drink and wallowing in self-pity.” It was his turn to try and make a joke, but I knew better than to believe it.

“Yes, but ‘one more’ drink might become ‘a few more’ drinks, and I don't want you to be by yourself in an alcohol-influenced state while you wallow in your self-pity. You know that’s dangerous.” I was tempted to try and take the decanter home with me just to be safe.

There was a chuckle from Erik, which I actually found to be quite unsettling. “Believe it or not, I have developed some self-control," he said.

He truly had learned a sense of self-control in my years of knowing him, but that didn’t change the fact that he had habits that worried me and those habits had been hard to crack the first time around; I vastly preferred to not go through it again. “I know that and I’m proud of you for that. But Erik, I know all too well how low you can get in periods like this and I refuse to leave knowing that I could come back tomorrow and find you hurt or dead, Allah forbid, because I left you here alone.”

“And I appreciate it. I just don't know what to do.” His voice was so empty that it was like every ounce of life that Gustave had flooded him with had been stripped away.

“I completely understand. Can I do something? Get you anything? Would a hug help at all?” I asked him instead of just going up to hug him; it varied from time to time whether or not he wanted to be touched.

He picked up the ring and looped the chain back around his neck. “I think just the company of a good friend would be best," he admitted.

“Well, that I can do. I can stay here as long as you need me to.” I knew that he would try to send me away knowing that my wife was downstairs, so I tried to reassure him that it was alright. “You know that Adele doesn’t mind waiting. I wish I could do more to help, Erik, I really do.”

“I suppose I don't know what I wouldn't do to be able to hold her in my arms again. I don't know if I told you this, but on Gustave’s wedding day, I actually turned over in my bed and thought I was going to see her lying beside me.” His hands were tangled up in his hairpiece; I could tell that he was truly feeling disturbed by what he was telling me. “I think I might be losing my mind without her.”

“Erik, I...I’m sorry. I really am.” I knew apologizing wasn’t going to do anything but it was all that I could think to say.

“Don't be. I suppose this is my weight to bear. I couldn’t save her.” He was glancing over at the whiskey again as he spoke. “She saved me and I couldn’t do the same for her.”

“Erik, you did everything you possibly could. You know that.” I wasn’t there when Christine died, but I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Erik would have done anything at that moment if it meant that she would still be by his side.

“My name was fatal to her from the moment we met.”

“You can’t seriously believe that.”

“Is there any other way to look at it?!” He was starting to get impatient; my next move had to be a cautious one. I knew that it was best for me to let him finish his rant before trying to help him make sense of it all.

He continued: “If it weren’t for me interfering with her life in the Opera House, she would still be there, dancing and having the time of her life regardless of whether or not she was the star. If I hadn’t taught her to sing, she wouldn’t have stepped in for Carlotta and that damned husk of a man never would have found her again and she never would have had to endure his abuse. If I hadn’t pulled all those idiotic stunts, the Opera House as a whole would still be standing. She wouldn’t have had to go through the heartbreak of lying to her husband about who the father of her child was. She would still be alive if I hadn’t called her to Coney Island in the first place. If I had just shut my damned mouth and gotten the gun from Meg she would be alive. So yes, I find it very simple to believe that my existence in her life was fatal because it is a factual statement.”

“I hear you, Erik, I truly do. The beginning of your story was...difficult, yes, but it had its beautiful moments, didn’t it? You can’t deny that.” He always focused on the negative but I needed him to try and see the light for himself. “You told me once that she was born to sing and you gave her the ability to share that with the world. I know for a fact that regardless of what followed, she never would have regretted those moments for a second.”

“I suppose you have a point. When I was with her, I had some of the best moments of my life. But one could accurately say that the bad outnumbered the good, no matter how important they were to me.”

He was staring off into space and I had to smack my hand on the table to get his attention again. “Erik, you can’t think of it like that. Looking at it as more trouble than it was wonderful doesn’t make it easier for you.”

“Since when have I ever made things easy for myself?” He was looking at me, but I could tell that I wasn’t what he was paying attention to; I knew better than to put my trust in the direction of his eyes. “Why should this be any different?”

“It’s about one of the happiest times in your life, that’s why. You deserve to have a beautiful memory of the woman you love instead of reflecting on the trials you faced. Why won’t you let yourself have even that?” It was remarkable that he could be so thick-skulled sometimes.

“Because I effectively killed her. I may not have pulled the trigger but I put her in the line of fire.”

“But you put yourself in the line of fire ahead of her, didn’t you? You were ready to take that bullet and that is more than most men would ever do.”

“I was the reason she was there in the first place.” I could tell that my words had struck him; he started looking at me and actually seeing me again. “If I had never brought her to America out of my own selfish desire, she never would have been at that pier.”

“Erik, you know that isn’t true. Some events took place in America that should never have happened. Meg should never have had that gun, she should never have taken your boy.” It felt awkward, to say the least, to be talking about Meg the way I was. I had no idea where I stood in terms of relation to her; on paper, I was her stepfather, but in reality, I had no clue what to call our relationship. “Her trip to America was supposed to be amazing for both of you, you know that.”

“I can’t help but take the responsibility for it. You know me, I don't know how to exist in a world where I can be happy.” He looked so defeated by life that I almost felt my heart breaking.

I gently turned his head with the crook of my finger, making sure I had his attention so I could ensure that my point got across. “And I want to help you finally find a way to exist in such a world.”

“Does such a world really exist for someone like me?”

“Yes. God, yes, Erik. Look around you, my friend. Did you not see the family surrounding you only moments ago downstairs? They love you _so_ much. That world in which you can be truly happy is right here. You just need to let yourself see it.” I knew it wasn’t going to be that simple for him but I thought maybe if I put the process in little steps, he might find it more manageable.

“I suppose you’re right,” he said quietly.

“I know I’m right. You have a son and a daughter-in-law who view you as the strongest man in the world. A goddaughter who looks at you and sees not a thing wrong with you. Best friends in Madeleine, Charles, Adele, and myself who would do anything to make sure you’re happy,” I replied as I felt a lump swelling up in my throat; it hurt so much to know that, regardless of what I said, he was still going to be terrified that everything and everyone he had was all going to disappear. “This is your family and they’re never going to leave you.”

“I don't think you and I are allowed to leave each other, given how we seem to keep finding each other.” There was a hint of a smile as he brought up our old joke of being stuck with one another whether we liked it or not.

I managed a small laugh myself before attempting to affirm that fact once again in case he still felt the need to question its validity: “Yes, that’s true. But even if I was able to go, I never would. You’re my brother, Erik. I’m never going to leave you or abandon you.”

“Thank you, Daroga. I don't know what I would do without you all in my life.” His voice was sounding tight. I could only assume that he was feeling the same lump I was in his throat, yet neither of us was willing to actually give in.

“How’s that hug sounding right about now? You sort of look like you need it,” I asked again, partially for him but mostly for myself.

Instead of saying something, he got up and hugged me, which served as his response. I thought for a moment that I may have actually gotten through to him and helped him realize that I wasn’t going to leave him; he might have actually believed me when I said that there were people in his life that wouldn't leave.

He squeezed me a little tighter then, which prompted me to repeat something that I knew I had said a thousand times before, but felt that I needed to say just one more time: “Alright, I’ve got you, it’s okay. Everything’s going to be fine, Erik.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so so sorry that this update took so long. Quarantine or not, my co-author and I have been in school up until the 26th, and life was simply really busy for my co-author, so she wasn't able to sit down and finish this chapter until now. I hope the fact that it was LONG and fluffy made up for it, and thank you all so much for your patience <3


	29. You Will Be Blessed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gustave goes to nadir for advice and nadir shares a story near and dear to his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updated 02-18-21

_**AUGUST 1921** _

_**NADIR** _

I was sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other, only to be startled slightly when my wife scurried into the kitchen and pressed a rather firm kiss to my cheek.

"Adele? Where are you rushing off to?" I asked as I turned to watch her zip around the kitchen to grab an apple, which would presumably serve as her breakfast.

"I have a class to teach and I'm late to the studio!" she replied as she hurried back over to me, set her apple on the table and held my face in her hands before kissing me. "I will see you later, my dear; I'll pick up our groceries on the way home."

"Adele, darling, it-" I tried to say.

"Don't worry about trying to do the shopping, I promise I can handle it," Adele said with a nod.

"But Adele-"

"No, Nadir, really, I will manage on-"

Groaning quietly in my slight frustration, I stood up and pulled her into a kiss to cut her off mid-sentence, smiling through it slightly when I felt her noticeably relax. "I know you can handle it, love," I said softly as we pulled apart. "I'm only trying to save you the extra stress and remind you that it's Saturday and you don't have any classes today."

I watched as she took a moment to process what I had said and couldn't help but laugh when she wrapped her arms around me and buried her face in my chest. "I can't believe I've been running around like a chicken with its head cut off and I don't even have anywhere to go," she mumbled with a quiet laugh.

"You've been very busy as of late and you enjoy your work; you only wanted to ensure you were on time," I replied, only to add, "Even if there was nothing to be on time for."

Adele sighed as she pulled away from my arms and ran her fingers through her hair, which had been left unbraided for once; she had started leaving it draped down over her shoulders lately, knowing how fond I was of it. "I suppose so," she said with a sigh. "I'll still need to go out now and do our shopping, class or not."

"Don't you want to eat breakfast before you go?"

"No, no, I'll be fine; I have my apple to eat. Besides, if I go now, I can beat the afternoon rush and be home with plenty of time to spend with you."

I smiled, already thinking of how we could spend our afternoon to enjoy the summer day. "I look forward to that," I said with a nod. "I will see you later on, then."

She nodded, smiling at me and tipping her head up to meet me for a kiss. "I love you," she said softly.

"And I love you more, always and forever," I replied, using the newfound phrase we had taken to saying to each other.

With another smile and kiss, Adele stepped out of the kitchen and left the house shortly thereafter, leaving me on my own to go about my day. Setting a record on to play, I got to work on cleaning the kitchen so I could have the rest of the morning to myself, but not much time had passed - perhaps the span of about three songs on the record - when a knock on the door interrupted my cleaning endeavours, and I opened it to find Gustave on the front step.

"Good morning, Gustave. What brings you by?" I asked as I shot him a smile, only to frown and glance over his shoulder. "And without Lara on top of that."

"I wanted to talk to you, Uncle Nadir. It's a bit of a...sensitive, private topic, which is why Lara isn't here," Gustave sighed. "That's also why it was easier for me to come to you instead of Papa. You know how he is."

"I do know, yes. Come in, Gustave, and I'll put some tea on for the two of us." I opened the door wider and let him step inside before we made our way to the kitchen. While I set the kettle to boil on the stove, I noticed just how off he was; not nearly as talkative as usual and alternating between fidgeting with his ring and tapping his foot, just like his father did. Something was definitely off and I knew that I needed to get to the bottom of it before he left my home that day. "What is going on?" I inquired, leaning against the kitchen counter and folding my arms across my chest.

Gustave sighed, letting a moment go by before he finally spoke up about what was bothering him: "Lara and I still can't have a baby."

Definitely a sensitive topic; I could see why he hadn't broached the subject with Erik. "I'm sorry, Gustave. I'm sure that-"

"Two miscarriages and more flat-out failed attempts than I can count," Gustave abruptly continued, clearly too agitated to hear me out before he had finished what he had to say. "I don't understand why our efforts have accomplished nothing. I know we aren't doing anything _wrong_ if that's even possible, so I don't know why we still don't have a baby! I mean, my parents had me their first time and they weren't even trying!"

I had to bite my lip at that to keep any sort of laughter from slipping out; as true as that comment was, it was far from the right time to be laughing about the more intimate parts of my best friend's life. I already knew that Gustave wouldn't appreciate it in the least, so I found myself in one of those moments when I truly hated the idea of having to be an adult.

"Well, I'm not going to speak on your father and mother's...fertility, but I know that it's been difficult for you and Lara. I'm sorry that you've had to deal with this for so long now," I said, trying to be as gentle as possible given how stressed he was.

"I'm not so worried about myself as I am about Lara. She's really been neglecting herself amidst all of this," Gustave said with a shaky sigh. "She's so distraught; between losing the babies and the struggle to simply get pregnant, not to mention her feeling that she's disappointing me, she's a mess."

"And I'm sure you've comforted her as best you can and promised that you aren't disappointed in her," I said as I took the squealing kettle off of the stove and poured the water into the teapot to steep, all while fighting my own emotional battle as memories of my own experience with the same dilemma along with Rookheya flooded my mind. I knew sharing my experience would likely help, but whether or not I could control my own emotions long enough to tell the stories was up for debate.

"Of course I have. I tell her that constantly and yet she still feels that way. She blames herself for it, but it can't be her fault; there isn't a thing wrong with her, she's perfect. The only logical explanation is that it must be me. I just hate that I can't give her the family that she wants and deserves."

I set two teacups and the teapot down on the table with a sigh, watching Gustave closely. Seeing the boy I considered a son so upset and anxious - twisting his wedding ring around his finger, breathing shakily, and failing to hide the tears pooling in his eyes - broke my heart, and I realized then that showing him that I understood his pain was the best way to help.

"I know how you feel. My wife and I struggled just as you and Lara are," I began as I sat across from him, folding my hands together on the tabletop. "We tried to get pregnant for what felt like centuries, losing a baby along the way. It broke Rookheya's heart; she didn't get out of bed for a couple of days after the miscarriage and hardly said a word to me. It destroyed me to see her in pain. When we finally did conceive, though, we were blessed with Reza for the short time the three of us had together.

"I urge you to keep trying, Gustave. You have done nothing to deserve punishment from the universe or from God or the Devil or whatever it is you may believe; neither has Lara. The best things come to those who wait. When Reza finally entered my life, I was the happiest I had ever been, even with the heartbreak of losing my wife. Just don't lose hope."

Gustave glanced up at me then and I could tell that he had questions; the slightly furrowed brow gave it away, just as it did with Erik. "Your wife...how much time did she have with your baby?" he finally asked.

"A matter of a few hours. Reza was born in the mid-afternoon and Rookheya died late in the evening," I explained, trying to force the memories of that night from my mind. "The pregnancy had been difficult and the birth itself was no different. She was too weak, had lost too much blood. There wasn't anything to be done about it, sadly."

Another pause. I didn't push him to continue, vouching to prepare my cup of tea instead. We were discussing a heavy topic, one that was emotional for us both; I knew he would resume our conversation when he was ready to do so.

"What was it like, then?" Gustave eventually asked. "Raising your son alone?"

"The difficulties never truly ended, from the moment he was born to the moment I lost him."

"I...I'm sorry. You just never seem to talk about him, so I thought I would ask."

He was clearly feeling guilty about broaching such an emotional subject with me, but he couldn't have known just how heartwrenching the story was; I didn't talk about it if I could help it, and Erik surely never brought it up. There was no other way for Gustave to know just how much it pained me to discuss what he was inquiring about.

"There is no need to apologize, Gustave. There is no way to escape the emotional side of this story; as many happy memories as I have surrounding Reza, the painful ones are just as plentiful," I explained. "It's difficult to talk about him, truthfully, but I don't mind discussing him if it will help you in the long run. I can put aside my emotions for a while."

"I don't want to pry, Uncle Nadir. It's just...how did you know that you were ready to be a father?" Gustave inquired. "How did you know that you weren't making some of the biggest mistakes?"

"Well, in terms of whether I was ready to be a father, the best decision that Rookheya and I made was to wait to have a child. We knew we didn't want to have a baby right away once we got married because of how young we were; because our marriage was arranged, I was only 18, while Rookheya was just 14, so we didn't want to rush into anything. We thought it through, talked about it and made sure we had everything for when and if our little one arrived, and I'm sure that you and Lara have done the same.

"When it came to knowing if I was making mistakes or not...I never truly knew. First-time parenting is all trial and error, Gustave. You never know if what you're doing is correct for some time, but it's all instinct. Not to mention that you'll have it easier than I did; you'll have your wife with you to help. You won't have to worry about having to hire a stranger to nurse your baby, you won't be up all hours of the night because your wife isn't there to help you soothe them. I was a single parent, which made it infinitely more difficult. Still, you just take it one day at a time. That's the best you can do, really."

Gustave sighed as he absentmindedly stirred his spoon around his teacup. "I'm sorry you had to go through that. I haven't the slightest idea what I'd do without Lara. I don't even want to imagine the possibility," he said quietly. "I just don't know what to do and that is utterly terrifying for me. I have no clue how to help Lara through this, so how on earth am I supposed to be able to help a child through their problems?"

"I completely understand, Gustave. Seeing your wife deal with something like this is...a nightmare. Having to watch Rookheya try to cope with losing a baby while attempting to process my own grief was one of the most painful things I have ever had to do, and considering what my life was like in Persia, that is saying a lot. Still, her just knowing that I was there by her side to help her through it all made an enormous difference and I'm sure Lara feels the same way."

"I hope so," he said quietly, looking at me and managing to give me a small smile. "I'm sorry that I'm bringing all of these memories up; I can't imagine how painful that must have been for the two of you. I just...I knew you would understand, so I figured I would come to you to talk about it."

I nodded and reached over to set my hand atop his, hoping to comfort him and simultaneously distract myself from the tightness in my throat. "Don't apologize, please. We are having this conversation for a reason, and that is to help you deal with such a difficult thing as this. I'm glad that you felt you could come to me for help," I said. "Many of my memories about Reza and Persia overall are painful, as I said, and they are for your father as well. That's why we don't bring it up very often."

"I'm sure it is. Papa never brings Reza up if he can avoid it, and I remember how emotional you got the first time he came up when we first met all those years ago," Gustave said, his voice soft as he spoke.

It was then that a pensive expression crossed his face, his brow furrowing. "You never did really explain what happened to him. All you and Papa ever told me was that he was very ill."

"He was sick, yes; ever since he was a baby, he was ill, and he only got worse as he got older. No one could diagnose it; only now are doctors and scientists seeing similar symptoms in children, though it remains nameless," I explained. "When your father first arrived in Persia with me, Reza was still at a point where he could walk, albeit unsteadily. Erik told me not long after they met that the boy was dying, which I had heard before but refused to believe for so long. Something about hearing it from him, though, made it real to me; perhaps it was the sudden gentility as he inquired about my wife and son. Anyhow, over the three years that your father stayed with us, my son's muscles deteriorated to a point where he couldn't walk. He lost his sight and struggled to speak as well."

"That must have been awful for you both to have to watch. From what I hear of him, he was a kind-hearted little boy; Papa loved him so much," Gustave said with a nod. "It truly is terrible when something like that happens to a child. It begs the question of what they could have possibly done to deserve it."

"Trust me, I asked myself that every single day: 'After struggling for so long to finally have a child, why did my little boy have to cope with a debilitating disease that no doctor could understand?' To me, it was the cruellest thing that could have happened to a boy with a heart like his. I couldn't wrap my head around it."

A pregnant silence fell over the room then, which I was grateful for; I was battling with my emotions more than I had had to in quite some time. I was determined to maintain my composure so I could help Gustave to the best of my ability, but talking about my son in such detail wasn't making it easy. I never talked about him - about _that_ night - with anybody; Adele didn't even know, so to be disclosing the details that I had given to Gustave was taking its toll on my heart.

"Then what happened?" Gustave asked, his hesitancy about asking for more details plain in his voice.

I bit my lip, not sure how to approach the details of what happened next in the battle with my son's health. Gustave knew well how much Reza meant to Erik; how was I meant to explain to him that his father played a part in my son's death, as merciful as that act may have been?

"Uncle Nadir?" I heard Gustave ask as I finally pulled myself out of my own thoughts. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, yes, just...gathering my thoughts," I replied, which wasn't completely untrue, even though 'gathering my thoughts and trying to manage my emotions' would have been more accurate.

"Of course. Just tell me whenever you're ready."

When he had become the comforter and I the one being comforted, I had no idea, but at that moment, I wasn't entirely opposed to the role reversal that had taken place. "With...with Reza's condition and its severity, your father could tell how much of a toll it was taking on both me and my boy, so, when he was about twenty-one and Reza about ten, he offered me a way to...put an end to it," I eventually said, trying to phrase my explanation as delicately as possible.

"Do...do you mean to say that Papa helped to end Reza's pain in the way that I think you mean?" Gustave asked, his curious expression quickly fading in favour of one of shock.

"I do, Gustave, yes."

He gasped. In all honesty, I didn't think he could help it; hearing something like that about his father had to be far from easy.

"I know it's almost impossible to wrap your head around that, believe me. If you need a moment to just...process that, take your time. Ask the questions that I'm sure you have whenever you're ready," I said, allowing the room to fall silent once more. The memories were rushing over me like a tidal wave; I had to rub my eyes with my thumb and forefinger to wipe the tears welling up there before they got the chance to fall.

When I dropped my hand back to the table, resting atop the other, gently brushing my wedding band with my fingers, I glanced across the table and found Gustave looking at me. He did just that for a moment or so, a distinct combination of confusion and pain on his face, and then he finally spoke, simply whispering one word.

"How?"

* * *

_PERSIA 1876*_

_I had fought to ignore the clear signs that had been presenting themselves to me for so long. Over the past two months, it had been almost easy to forget just how fragile my son was; Erik brought music and magic to our home, making Reza smile and giggle more than he had in months. Erik truly had painted the rainbow he had promised, and I had no need to decide where it would end, which I was more than happy about. I never wanted to even consider doing such a thing, taking Erik up on the offer he had once made._

_Then, all of a sudden, one fateful night, I was faced with that very decision._

_Reza had been confined to his bed for some time by then, the muscles in his legs too weak to carry him anymore. I had taken to sitting at his bedside whenever I could, helping him to eat and drink, no matter how slow that process may have been. On that night, however, he sputtered when I brought the glass to his lips, the little bit of water that he had managed to sip dribbling onto his chin. Tears immediately pricked at my eyes, the sudden worsening of his condition terrifying me._

_"Reza...Reza, please try to drink your water," I said quietly, sighing when my son merely groaned in response. "I'll help you, I promise, Reza, just-"_

_"Baba...I can't," Reza managed to say, his voice breaking off into a quiet whimper._

_That heartbroken expression - the pain and fear in his voice - was enough to make me abandon my pleas entirely in favour of gently holding his hand in order to soothe him. "Okay, okay, that's alright. It's okay," I replied as I reached over with my other hand to smooth down his hair, the cold sweat on his brow only solidifying the decision I had finally come to. "I...I'm going to ask Erik to come home, alright? I will be right back, I promise."_

_I stayed by his side until his eyes closed again; only then could I pull myself away from him to leave the room and make my way to my study to find Darius. When he wasn't handling meals and other household chores for me or shadowing me at the palace, he busied himself with organizing the paperwork that I so often left a complete mess in my study. A servant though he may have been, I counted him as a friend, a confidante; a son, even. I was comfortable going to him with issues as delicate as the one at hand._

_"Master Khan," he said, bowing his head as I stepped into the room. "I finished getting today's letters in order and was just about to freshen your cup of tea."_

_"Thank you, Darius, but you can put that off for the moment," I sighed, hesitating to make my request. Vocalizing it just made it all real and I wasn't ready for that yet._

_"Sir?"_

_"I need you to send word to the palace and have Erik return here."_

_As soon as the words left my mouth, there was a change in Darius' disposition; he straightened up, a serious expression formed on his face with a distinct look of sympathy in his eyes. "Of course. I will do that right away, sir," he said, his tone gentle as he stepped past me into the hall._

_I walked out of the study a moment later, but I only made it to just outside of Reza's room when a sob racked my body as I heard the front door open and close when Darius stepped out. That simple sound made everything hit me full force; I had just sealed my son's fate. I had requested the presence of the man who had the means to end the life of my only child - the only living memory of Rookheya I had left._

_As I leaned against the wall outside of my son's bedroom, trying to steady my breathing and dry the tears streaming down my face, I heard Reza manage to quietly call out for me. Immediately, any worries about my own wellbeing were thrown from my mind; what mattered was trying to help my son when he could no longer do anything to help himself._

_Opening the bedroom door, I swiftly stepped over to his bed, sitting in my chair beside it and taking his hand, then squeezing it when he called for me again. "I'm right here, Reza, shh. Baba's right here," I whispered, lifting his hand to my lips and pressing a kiss to his knuckles._

_"It...it hurts, Baba," Reza said, his voice weak and his words slurred together slightly. He had turned to look at me, his eyes open slightly, but I knew he couldn't see me; he hadn't seen my face for almost three years._

_"I know it hurts, I'm so sorry," I replied, squeezing my eyes shut and letting tears fall onto my cheeks when I heard the quiet, pained whimper that escaped him. I didn't bother asking what was causing him pain; with how weak he'd become, it could have been anything, and treatment was essentially futile with the state of his health._

_We fell silent then save for the lullaby I was quietly singing as I gently smoothed down Reza's hair; the song was one that Rookheya had often sung while she was pregnant, so my son had recognized the tune since he was a baby. I knew the tune off by heart, after listening to my wife sing it so often and singing it so much myself, but thinking of never singing it again only made tears fill my eyes, the melody of the song becoming much more strangled than before._

_"Baba, where's Erik?" Reza asked weakly. Just from the sound of his voice, I could tell how quickly his strength was waning; if he kept talking, he wouldn't have the energy for much else that night._

_"Erik was working at the palace tonight. Darius sent for him, he's coming," I said with a nod, managing a small smile at Reza's desire to have his closest friend nearby._

_"Okay. He's fixing my music man so they can play the violin for me tomorrow," Reza replied, only for his voice to give out in a way for a fit of coughs._

_The slight smile on my face dropped and made way for more tears when I heard what he'd said; I wasn't sure if there would even_ _**be** _ _a tomorrow for him. "I'm sure it will sound beautiful," I croaked, smiling weakly at my son despite knowing he couldn't see me._

_My heart skipped a beat when I heard the front door open and I couldn't make myself move for a moment, too afraid to face the same man I had summoned. Eventually, I forced myself to stand and shuffle out of the room, only to slow to a stop when I saw Erik standing in the front hall. I knew his attire well, had become accustomed to the porcelain mask that seemed to glow in the moonlight and the billowing black cloak draped over his shoulders. Now that the Khanum's Angel of Death was standing in my foyer instead of in court, though, the life of my child at risk rather than that of a criminal, a wave of panic rushed over me._

_"Darius told me to return, though he didn't say much else," Erik said, his gaze - one that was firm as always, but with an underlying glimmer of sympathy behind it - locked on me. "What has happened, Daroga?"_

_"He...Reza has gotten worse," I explained, my voice, so broken and quiet, sounding foreign to my own ears._

_Erik's one visible brow quirked up at that. "He has been getting worse for months, Nadir."_

_"You don't think I've noticed?" I immediately snapped in response, but stopped and took a deep breath when I felt tears pricking my eyes again. "He can't even drink anymore, Erik."_

_His resolve seemed to falter with that news. "What do you mean he_ _**cannot** _ _drink?"_

_"What do you think I mean? When I was helping him to drink, he choked, and when I asked him to try again, he simply said 'I can't'."_

_"So you summoned me to take me up on the offer that I made you," Erik said, stating the obvious but still looking for my confirmation._

_I said nothing. I couldn't bear to acknowledge that I had asked him home to end my son's life; I wasn't ready to hear those words leave my mouth._

_My silence seemed to prove to be the affirmation he needed, as he stepped through the door to the kitchen, leaving me alone in the foyer to make a pathetic attempt at controlling myself. He returned shortly after with a bowl of sherbet, which he set on a side table before producing a small vial of colourless liquid from the sleeve of his robe and pouring it into the bowl. "It will be quick and painless," he said as he held out the bowl to me. "I assure you, he will feel nothing."_

_My eyes widened, a newfound sense of panic washing over me as I realized that he was expecting_ _**me** _ _to be the one to administer the concoction that would stop the beating of my little boy's heart._

_"I...I can't. This was a mistake, just leave it be," I stuttered._

_"Daroga-"_

_"No, Erik, I said, leave it! Go back to the palace, return to your work. I'll let nature take its course," I said firmly._

_"Nature can be brutal, Nadir. Leaving Reza in its hands may not be the kindest decision for him," Erik replied._

_I frowned at that. "What are you talking about?"_

_"Leaving the boy to die completely naturally may not go smoothly. It would be slow and likely painful, given the constant ache in his body. Now that he seems to choke easily, his life could end with him suffocating in his sleep," Erik said. "Will you really abandon your boy in that way when you could make it so much more peaceful for him?"_

_A silent sob racked my body as I turned my back on him and buried my face in my hands. "I'm his father...how can you possibly know or claim to understand the feeling of being told to take the life of your own child?" I managed to ask._

_We fell quiet for a moment, my quiet crying the only sound breaking the silence, and I only lifted my head when I felt Erik gently set his hand on my arm._

_"_ _Don't misunderstand me, Nadir; this is far from easy for me," he said gently. "If I could find a way to cure Reza and give you back your strong, curious boy, you know I would, but the last thing I want is for him to suffer, which is why I am asking you to reconsider."_

_Fresh tears filled my eyes as I realized that I had to change my mind; it was selfish of me to keep my child alive, only for him to suffer every single day. "I...I can't do it myself," I croaked._

_"Then you won't. This burden is no longer yours," Erik replied with a slight nod._

_I nodded in return, looking down at my feet for a moment, only to lift my head and reach out to grab my friend by the sleeve of his robes before he could walk towards Reza's room. "C-can I at least say goodbye? Please?" I asked, hiccuping through my words._

_"Of course. Just tell me when you're...ready," Erik said gently, stepping away to grab the bowl of sherbet and sit aside to wait for me to return._

_With a deep breath, I made my way back into Reza's bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed to look at him. I had always loved how much he looked like his mother, but now that he resembled how weak and pale she had looked on the night of her death, I would have preferred that he looked nothing like her._

_I leaned forward and gently gathered my son in my arms so I could hold him to my chest, being sure to listen for any sign that he was in pain. "I love you so much, Reza. Thank you for the beauty and joy you've given me. You're such an incredible little boy and I love you for that. I'm-" I said, only to pause for a moment when my voice broke off and more tears ran down my face. "I'm sorry I couldn't do more. I'm so sorry."_

_I pressed a gentle kiss to his temple, leaning my head against his for a few moments before I pulled myself away from him. I took his stuffed bear - the same one his mother had bought for him while she was pregnant - and set it under his arm on his chest so he could hold it, then took a moment to simply look at him, trying to memorize every feature of him._

_I finally managed to make my feet move and stepped out of the room, making my way back to the front of the house and finding Erik still standing in the same spot I had left him. "You...you can go in," I croaked, giving him a slight nod._

_He returned the gesture as he stepped over to me. "Wait for me here," he said gently, and I watched as he picked up the Qur'an from a nearby table and made his way towards Reza's room._

_As numb as I felt as I sank into a chair, I couldn't help but think of the fact that Erik had brought the holy texts of a faith he didn't belong to into that room with him...all for Reza's sake. He truly did intend to make such a tragic process as easy on the child - and me - as possible._

_Time seemed to slow as I sat in that chair, with each tick of the hands of the clock in the room tormenting me. Finally, I couldn't wait for Erik any longer; I got to my feet and walked down the hall, completely unprepared to see the lifeless body of my son, but not wanting him to be without me, whether he knew he was or not._

_I slowly opened the door to the room, the shaking in my hands making it difficult to turn the knob, and took a few small steps inside. Erik turned to me then; his cloak caught the breeze from the open window, only adding to the ominous front he so often put up, but his posture was slumped and he looked more drained than usual. The night's events were taking a heavy toll on him just as they were me._

_He held Reza in his arms, almost cradling him against his chest, as he brought him over to me, and it was then that I was able to see the glistening tears in his eyes that he was refusing to let fall. Always so determined to be strong, even in the face of tragedy, though with all he had been through in only 21 years, I couldn't say I was shocked._

_I reached out with a shaky hand to gently smooth down Reza's hair, making sure not to move his head from where it rested against Erik's chest. "There is no God but Allah and Muhammad is his Prophet," I whispered, making one last call to my faith, my god, in what was arguably the darkest moment of my entire life._

_The only response from my child was a quiet sigh, and another moment passed before Erik carefully laid him in my arms. I quickly realized that the slow rise and fall of his chest had stopped, and it occurred to me then that Erik had waited until he knew Reza had passed before he let me hold him, taking yet another burden onto his own shoulders; I truly never would be able to express to him the extent of my gratitude for all he had done._

_A quiet sob escaped me as I sat down on Reza's bed, my knees too weak to keep me standing any longer, and I leaned my forehead against my son's. "Âsheghetam, azizam,"** I breathed, switching to my mother tongue as if to keep the expression between me and my son, even though Erik still stood in the room and spoke the language fluently. I wanted to feel like it had just been the two of us at the end._

_The only thing that pulled me out of the fog of my own grief was when Erik moved to leave the room. A small part of me wanted to hate him for all he had done - for ending my son's life, for making idiotic decisions that I had to deal with, which pulled me away from Reza when he had needed me - but simultaneously, he had made my life and Reza's life so much better in so many ways. I didn't want him to go, I realized; I needed a friend for support, and he was the friend that I had._

_"Erik," I said, my voice hoarse from the constant crying I had been doing over the course of the day. He turned back to me immediately, and I didn't miss the tear stains on his cheek. "Stay here. Please."_

_He thought about refusing, I noticed; his fingers twitched as they always did when he was faced with a big decision, and yet, he made his way back over to the bed without a word and kneeled in front of me. He slipped his mask off, only comfortable enough to do so with the darkness of the room, and carefully took Reza's limp hand before he quietly spoke in his own native language of French. I may not have understood, but I knew it was a goodbye. I knew Erik well enough to be sure of that._

_We shared in our grief in silence; I cried and he wept in silence, I pressed my lips to my son's forehead and he held Reza's small hand gently in his own. I had never felt so alone and broken before, but as Erik and I finally looked at each other and he managed to give me a small, weak smile, I knew that I was never going to have to be truly alone; I had a friend who understood the pain I felt better than anyone, and that was irreplaceable._

* * *

As I finished recounting the story, it was as if I had snapped myself out of a daze. I was well aware of the tears that had pooled in my eyes and the few that had fallen onto my face, I had never told the story to anyone before, so for every detail to come out all at once was incredibly difficult.

I turned my head when I felt Gustave wrap his arm around my shoulders and found him sitting beside me, having moved at some point while I recounted the story. He had tears in his eyes as I looked at him, whispering, "I'm so sorry."

I managed to give him a tight-lipped smile and a slight nod in response. "Thank you," I whispered back. "I didn't expect to get so emotional, I-"

"No, don't apologize. You have good reason to be emotional about something like that," Gustave said. "I...I'm not really sure what to say. I suppose it was better for Reza in the end, then. I just can't believe it happened."

"Believe me, Gustave. Neither can I."

He sighed, looking down at his lap for a moment as he undoubtedly processed everything he had just been presented with. "It just goes to show that we are never ready for the biggest decisions, doesn't it?" he finally asked as he glanced back up at me.

"No, you never are. It doesn't matter how old you are, how much you've seen or been through. Weighty decisions never come easily," I replied, setting my hand on top of his.

"Thank you for telling me all of this, Uncle. I know it's hard for you to recall it all."

"It is, yes, but I know that stories like that make you realize that it isn't just you who struggles with this sort of thing. That feeling of helplessness when it comes to your family is a universal thing, Gustave, and as difficult as it is, you're going to get through it. Your struggles will disappear and you will be blessed; trust me, when you're holding your little baby in your arms, nothing else matters."

Gustave smiled at me then before he wrapped his arms around me to hug me tight. "Thank you, Uncle Nadir," he said quietly.

"Of course, Gustave. Anything for you."

* * *

The rest of the day had been far from easy for me. My emotions had been thrown entirely out of whack; I found myself lacking motivation to really do much of anything, wanting to bury myself in my own memories. I knew it wouldn't take long for Adele to notice; she knew me well and caught on when things weren't right, but I tried to keep my feelings to myself despite that knowledge.

In the end, though, my charade started to fall apart after dinner. The two of us were washing the dishes together, and while Adele was telling me about something that had happened while she had been out, - what exactly, I couldn't recall - I was too busy running through my own memories to really pay attention. The only thing that pulled me out of my daze was when I flinched as Adele pinched my arm.

"Hm? Yes, dear?" I asked, drying off the plate I was holding and setting it in the cupboard.

"What has gotten into you?" Adele asked with a frown. "You've been off all night."

"No, no...nothing is wrong," I insisted.

Adele tossed her dishtowel over her shoulder and crossed her arms. "What was I just talking about?"

"Your day at the market and the new set of linens that you found."

"Yes, I did talk about that ten minutes ago. Then I talked about how I went to Madeleine's house and did a quick, impromptu ballet lesson with Elizabeth because she wouldn't stop begging me."

I looked down at my hands, feeling my ears flush as she uncovered the fact that I hadn't been listening. "I'm sorry. I'm just...feeling a bit off tonight, that's all," I said quietly.

"My darling, what's going on?" Adele asked, reaching over to take my hand and gently run her thumb over my knuckles. "Talk to me. I can't help if I don't know what's happening."

"There's not much you can help with when it comes to memories," I replied, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead.

"Can you at least tell me what sort of memories? What brought them on?" Adele requested. "You don't have to tell me any details if it hurts to do it. I just need an idea so I can at least try to help."

I sighed, knowing that I couldn't keep up the front of lying to her any longer. I was too drained to do it, and I hated keeping things from her when she was asking to know. "Gustave came by not long after you left. He was looking for advice because he's distraught over him and Lara still struggling to have a baby, and then he started asking about Reza and what it was like raising him, so I...I told him the story of what happened."

A moment passed while Adele thought about that, and then she wrapped her arms tightly around me, leaning her head against my chest. "I'm sorry. You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to. I know how hard that is for you to talk about," she said softly.

"I appreciate it, my love. Believe me, I hate to keep anything from you, especially about something so near to my heart, but it...I've already recounted the entire story today and cried about it. I'm not quite sure I can do that again. Not tonight," I replied as I set my hands on her waist to keep her close to me.

"I understand, it's alright. I know how painful it is for you, you don't have to tell me anything until you're ready," Adele said, looking up at me and giving me a reassuring smile. "When and if you're ever ready to tell me, I will be right there to listen to you. All I can say now is that I'm so sorry that you ever had to go through that."

"We play with the cards we are dealt, Adele, and that just so happened to be one of the cards in my hand. There was nothing to be done," I said softly.

Adele sighed as she reached up to cup my cheek in her hand, and I found myself leaning into her touch as she did. "I just hate knowing you were in so much pain," she whispered.

I shot her a small smile, turning my head to press a kiss to her palm. "I appreciate it, my dear. But now that I have you, the more painful memories get pushed aside most of the time because I have so many beautiful things to focus on instead," I replied. "When I have you to think about, there's no room for such negative thoughts."

I couldn't help but laugh quietly when her cheeks flushed at the comment. "Well, I'm glad that I can help to make things at least a little bit easier for you. You've lived a difficult life and you deserve none of it," she said. 

"It had its good moments. I had my first love and my son, I had my best friend...and now I have you. If I had to wait my entire life and go through all those trials to end up at this moment right here, it was all worth it."

Adele smiled up at me. "I love you so much," she said quietly.

"I love you more," I whispered, cupping her face in my hands as I leaned down to kiss her. "Always and forever."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *My co-author and I are well aware that this year differs from that which I listed in Kay's novel, which this fic is heavily based on. Erik's age in that story did don't work for our timeline, so we had to bump up the events of his life by quite a few years. 
> 
> **'I love you, my dear' in Persian


	30. Be Strong, My Warrior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> while gustave confided in nadir, lara leans on erik.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updated 02-27-21

**_AUGUST 1921_ **

**_ERIK_ **

It was a beautiful day, perfect for a picnic, I realized, as I made my way over to Lara and Gustave’s house. My son was out at one of the construction sites for a new building we had just finished designing, so Lara was alone and naturally, we decided to have lunch together. Gustave kept hinting that he didn’t want her to be alone at the moment because she had been acting out of the ordinary as of late and I didn’t like the worried look on his face when he asked, so I decided to double down and brought some of her favourite foods for lunch.

When I finally got there, I knocked and nobody answered. I checked my watch just to make sure I was on time and quickly started to get concerned when I knocked again and still received no answer. I then started thinking that she might have been upstairs and hadn’t heard me knock, so I decided to go through the back gate to let her know I was there. The latch on the gate was simple enough and within moments, I was making my way to the back door and I was about to go in when I heard the sound of someone crying. I turned to find Lara kneeling in the gazebo in the middle of the yard with her face in her hands, so I put my basket down and practically ran over to her.

“What happened?” I asked urgently as I knelt next to her, quickly noticing that her hands were dirty with topsoil.

“What’s wrong with me?!” she cried out.

I couldn’t help but be terribly confused. “What could you possibly mean? Nothing is wrong with you, Lara.”

“It happened again. I lost a baby again.” She spoke so softly I almost didn’t understand her, but the words, when I processed them, hit like a freight train and I didn’t know how to react, so I simply hugged her close to my chest.

When I finally collected my thoughts, the only thing I could think of asking was, “Does he know?”

She didn’t respond with words; she simply shook her head no, which made me sigh despite myself. “You shouldn’t be going through this alone, Lara.”

“But how can I tell him?!” she demanded, lifting her head from my chest in order to look me in the eyes. A piece of my heart broke when I saw her eyes; they were red and puffy from all the crying, but there was something more. There had always been such a stubborn resilience in her, but that seemed to be gone, and it hurt more than anything I could have imagined. “Why should I keep getting his hopes up that I will finally give him a child only to disappoint him a month later when I lose it?! I’m a failure of a wife; I am defective. He doesn’t need more reason to believe that. If I tell him, he would leave me, and honestly, I wouldn’t blame him. Look at these rose bushes. I plant one for each miscarriage. For every child that I couldn’t keep. He’ll never know, but I can never forget.”

“You are not a failure, my girl; you are strong. Not many people can hold the weight of what you’ve been through. You are a warrior in every sense of the word; I’ve never seen more resilience in my life. Gustave loves you more than anything in the world, and he wouldn’t want you to do this alone.” As I spoke, I was wiping the tears away with my handkerchief along with some of the dirt that had transferred from her hands to her face. As I did, I looked at the four rose bushes lined up in front of us and felt a sense of numbness wash over me; the poor girl was being put through the wringer for no reason whatsoever.

“Believe me, it would take the entirety of both the British and French armies to get him to leave you, and even then, there is still an incredibly low probability of success for them,” I continued. “You are worthy of this happiness, and once it has arrived, you will feel more joy than you have ever known. You just have to hold on, my girl. I speak to you as a father myself; while I never got to hold my son just after his birth, being able to see him grow up and hold him close when he needed me is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced. You must hold on so you can experience that and so much more. It will be worth the wait; I waited for ten years, and I’m so glad I did.”

“It’s so hard not to feel broken though; being a mother has always been something that I wanted. But now to find out how hard it is for me to actually be able to have a baby is making me reconsider everything I ever thought I was going to have in life. It’s just that feeling unprepared is a nightmare for me, and I’ve never felt so unprepared as I have when it comes to thinking about having a baby. It terrifies me, knowing that I would be going into it completely blind,” Lara explained, taking a bit longer to say all that she wanted to thanks to her heavier breathing and stuttering that came with the crying she had been doing.

“I know that this uncertainty can be a heavy burden on you, but you just have to trust your instincts. You have a good intuition, dear; have a little faith in yourself.” I knew that look on her face; I had practically invented it. It was the look that screamed that you felt like you had lost all worth as a human being. I never thought I would live to see the day when I saw it on the face of my wonderfully headstrong daughter-in-law.

“I’m trying, and Gustave tells me to do the same, but I...I don't want to do anything wrong. So far that’s the only thing I seem to be doing.” She looked down at her hands and I could swear that I saw them shake, telling me that she was scared out of her mind. “I want my baby to be happy and healthy, but how is that supposed to happen when I’m not even competent enough to keep myself from losing the baby?”

“For one, don't talk like you could have prevented this. The fact that you’ve lost a baby, while it is incredibly unfortunate, says nothing about how competent you are. And on another note, your baby will be incredibly happy and healthy. With people as amazing as you and Gustave for parents, it is practically a guarantee,” I tried to reassure her, taking her hands in mine to keep them from shaking.

“But what if I can’t seem to do anything right? What if I can’t ever figure out how to get this right?”

“You truly need to give yourself more credit. You are a smart person who is more than capable of doing this,” I said as I brushed a lock of hair from her face. As I did, I noticed that the light had begun to come back in her eyes and I breathed a sigh of relief.

Her curiosity had come back as well given that, instead of self-doubt and deprecating comments, she was asking questions again: “How did you manage it, Erik? I know that Gustave wasn’t a baby when he came into your care, but you were doing it all on your own. How did you do it?”

“In all honesty, I had no idea what I was doing.” We both let out a small laugh at that, but the statement was true nonetheless. “But I did learn something; the only thing you can do when you don't know what to do is the next right thing.”

“I suppose so. Any other words of wisdom that you might have? You always seem to have plenty of those.” I was grateful that inquisitive Lara was back; I would take a million questions over seeing her in the state she was in moments ago.

“Well, for one, you never truly know if you’re making the right decisions. You’re going to think you’re doing everything wrong, but you aren’t, believe me. I’ve had those exact thoughts and they’re awful in the moment, but it always works out because most of the time, you’re doing just fine. There are going to be moments where they’re crying and you don't know how to fix it, or they’re mad at you and you have no idea what you did. All you can do is take it in stride. Oh, and other than that, you think you’re going to be able to say no to them, but they’ll give you those eyes and you’ll have a much harder time than you think.” Her laughter came a little easier the more we went on, and it seemed that she was starting to feel better, so I decided to test my luck and continue.

“Still, I think the most valuable thing that I learned that you can take to heart, Lara, is that you don't need to question yourself. I know that it is something you’ve become so accustomed to doing, but you really don't need to. You’re smarter than me and I have no doubt that you are going to be an amazing mother.”

“I hope so. I suppose it’s just difficult to avoid feeling like I’m a bit of a failure after I’ve miscarried more than once,” Lara admitted as she ran her hands along her stomach.

“You are nowhere near failure. This can only make you stronger. Being a failure would be to give up, which is something that I know you will never do. These hard moments will make the good ones even more special. You’ve just got to hold on for a little longer and remember to be strong, my warrior.”

Once I had finished speaking, she didn’t even respond; she simply threw her arms around me and held on tight. I didn’t realize she was crying again until I felt the slight wetness through my shirt.

“Now, I just wiped those tears!” I scolded her mockingly. The wet shirt didn’t bother me; it was the fact that she was hurting that pained me more, but when I heard a somewhat stifled laugh from her, I felt a little better.

“Thank you, Erik. You can’t know how much it means to hear that,” Lara whispered with her head still firmly pressed against my chest.

“Anything for you, dear. You know that,” I said, smoothing down her hair as I spoke. “Now, I brought your favourites and they’re of no use to us in that basket. What do you say we go inside?”

“That would be nice,” she said.

A thought occurred to me as we were walking into the house; Gustave still didn’t know. “Lara, before we go in, I want you to promise me that you will tell Gustave. He wouldn’t want you to be taking this on yourself and it would break his heart to find out through someone else.”

“I promise I will,” she said softly.

~~~~~

**_LARA_ **

My talk with Erik had helped, but it still hadn’t taken away the fear surrounding what I had to tell Gustave. I had avoided it throughout dinner, but I had promised Erik that I would tell him and I couldn’t back out. He was sitting in bed reading and I was so nervous that I couldn’t sit next to him, so I sat at my vanity table, pretending to brush my hair even though it was already done.

“How were things at the construction site, Gustave? I almost forgot to ask,” I said in a desperate attempt to get a conversation going.

“You know, I’ll never understand how Papa did all this over the phone all these years. When I was there, I was directing everything because those fools had no idea how to read the design. I don’t see any other way to do that but to be in person explaining things. Yet somehow, he always managed to get things done over the phone from his office,” Gustave said with a chuckle. I could only imagine that he was right; from the sounds of things, I didn’t think even I could give instructions like that over the phone.

“I suppose it comes with experience; he has been doing this his whole life.” I tried to make sense of it, not only for Gustave, but for myself too. “Your father is also very gifted at getting his point across.”

“You’re right about that. By the way, how was your lunch with him today?” He was truly making the inevitable topic harder for me to avoid.

I took a deep breath before answering: “It went well. We had a good talk and I made a promise that I have come very close to breaking.”

“What do you mean?” The confusion in his voice was unmistakable as he set his book down. I didn’t want to be beating around the bush but I couldn’t stop myself.

“I promised Erik that I would tell you something that I have been keeping to myself as of late.” I was internally screaming at myself to just come out and say it, but my mouth simply wouldn’t comply.

The confusion in his voice was now replaced with fear: “Love, you’re starting to scare me. What is it?”

“I’ve lost more than you think I have. Two, to be precise.” My heart was going faster than a runaway train, almost to the point that I thought I might hyperventilate and pass out.

For some reason, he still looked confused. “Lara, I don’t understand. What have you lost?”

“Children, Gustave! I didn’t know how to tell you but I can’t hold it in anymore.” I was standing by that point even though I don’t remember leaving my stool. “One of them was earlier this week. I’m so sorry.”

I couldn’t decide which was worse; the reaction I had expected or the reaction I got which, in short, was nothing. He simply sat there, staring at me without saying so much as a word. I didn’t know what to do as tears started to roll down my face and I still didn’t get any form of response from him. It was worse than torture and I knew I had to put an end to it.

“Gustave, please, say something, do something,” I pleaded.

“I really don’t know what you want me to say,” he replied. His voice was unchanging and it made me want to jump out of my skin.

“I don’t know, but I just need something because you’re terrifying me by doing nothing,” I said through the tears and tightness in my throat.

He still didn’t say anything; he sat there still as a statue, twisting his wedding band around his finger. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” He didn’t even look me in the eyes as he spoke. “Whatever happened to the ‘you can’t make decisions for the both of us’ attitude from before I left for deployment? Are you still afraid that I’m going to leave? Please tell me what I have done to give you the impression that I would even consider taking my ring off, slamming it on the table and walking out the front door of our home, never to return?”

“Absolutely nothing, it’s just-“

“Just what, Lara? I love you more than anything in this world and I’ve tried to prove that to you every minute of every single day since the moment we said ‘I do’, but you still think that I’m going to leave you over something that you and I have no control over.” I had never seen him like that before. I had heard stories from Nadir about how Erik used to be years ago, before he met all of us. He had painted a vivid picture of the look Erik would get when he had been pushed past a certain point; an unchanging seriousness to the point that even his eyes held no emotion, and at that moment, I truly saw the resemblance between Gustave and his father.

“I must have done something, please enlighten me,” he continued. “I don’t know what else I could do, in all honesty. I’m just a little rattled so forgive me for being confused over how you didn’t come to me when I’ve always tried my best to be there.”

“Gustave, I wanted to, I really did.” I knew there was a shake in my voice; he was starting to scare me. The sound of that very shakiness must have sparked something in him as the serious expression on his face remained, but there was a light growing in the back of his eyes.

“I think I see it now,” he said as he stood up and made his way towards me. We were inches away from each other and my breath seemed to get caught in my lungs as he looked down at me.

“Are you afraid of me? Afraid of how I will react? Afraid that I will fly off the handles like he used to?” His voice caught on his last question and he swallowed hard when he finished it. He kept his hands glued to his sides, but his eyes were telling me that he wanted to reach out. At that, I was brought back to the night he met my parents for the first time; the first time he said that he loved me was while he was panicking at the thought of being similar to my uncle. I looked into his eyes again and saw the same scared teenager who had nearly had a panic attack because he squeezed my arms too tight.

“Gustave, you are not him. You never have been and you never will be. I could never be afraid of you.” I gently ran my hand down his bare arm, as he had decided to forego his nightshirt for that night because of the hot days London had been having, but he flinched hard in response and pulled away almost immediately.

“Gustave, if I was afraid of you would I do this?” I asked before I closed the gap between us then and kissed him. He was shocked at first - I could tell by the way he stiffened and didn’t reciprocate the kiss even as my lips gently moved over his - but then, almost instinctively, he melted and flung his arms around me tightly.

When we broke apart, tears finally started to fall down his face. “I’m so sorry. I scared you, I know I did. I don’t know what came over me.”

“You were upset, you had every right to be. It’s my fault for not saying anything.” I looked down at my feet in embarrassment; the entire interaction all could have been avoided if I hadn’t let my fear and shame get in the way.

Instead of responding, he put his index finger under my chin and lifted my head so I could look him in the eyes. “I think we are both equally at fault here. I shouldn’t have snapped at you the way that I did. That was wrong in more ways than I can count. It just shocked me that this happened and I had no idea. I thought I was losing you,” he said quietly.

“What do you mean?” I asked with a frown.

“I thought that this was tearing you away from me. That maybe if I couldn’t give you the baby you want, that you would find someone who can.”

When he finished explaining, I laughed, unable to hold it in. “Why are you laughing?” he asked with a slight frown.

“Because we are so similar, it’s insufferable! Gustave, I think we both need to stop being so worried about one of us leaving the other for someone else and just be together. Don’t you realize that we are afraid of the exact same thing?” I asked. Once I had explained myself, he started laughing too and kissed me firmly with a smile on his lips.

“No more secrets. Promise?” he asked when we parted.

“Promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * The rose bushes concept was inspired by 'The Help' by Kathryn Stockett


	31. We Have News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no summary. too many spoilers. just read and enjoy :)

_**DECEMBER 1921** _

_**LARA** _

I couldn't help but giggle as Gustave tugged me along down the street to his father's house, his feet skidding along the ice as he ran. The snow all around us would have made for a beautiful walk - even if I was buried in an innumerable number of layers and was starting to overheat while my husband practically yanked my arm out of its socket.

"Lara, hurry up, love! We have to get to Papa's house!" Gustave exclaimed as he looked at me over his shoulder. He had a ridiculous grin plastered on his face, and his cheeks were flushed from the cold; he looked adorable and hilarious all at the same time, which only made another fit of giggles escape me.

"We'll still get to your father's if we walk, you know," I pointed out, knowing that basic logic didn't always occur to my husband in moments of great excitement.

"I know, I know," Gustave said, laughing through his words. "I'm just excited to tell him!"

Shaking my head fondly, I tugged back against Gustave's gentle hold on my arm, which got him to slow to a stop. "The news isn't going to change no matter when we get there," I said as I set my hand to his chest and gave him a gentle kiss. "Plus, I'm not really in any state to be running."

A wave of panic washed over my husband's face, I noticed, so I quickly kissed him to make sure he knew I was alright. "Right, of course, I'm sorry," he said with a nod as the two of us started to walk again, turning onto Erik's street. "Are you alright? Are you cold?"

"Gustave, I can barely move, I'm so bundled up. I am the furthest from cold that I could possibly be."

"I just want to be sure! I know you hate the cold anyway, so I am ensuring that you're warm."

"And I appreciate that, love," I replied with a smile, wanting to acknowledge his efforts. "But I will be warmer once we get inside your father's house, so if we could do that, I would appreciate it."

Gustave nodded and took my hand, pressing a kiss to my knuckles before he led me the short distance left to walk up to Erik's front door. His excitement immediately resurfaced as he pulled his spare key out of his pocket and opened the door, then darted inside, only to bump into Nadir - quite literally.

"Where are you rushing to? You haven't been this excited to come over here in quite some time," Nadir said with a laugh as he steadied Gustave on his feet, then stepped over to me to greet me with a hug.

"Oh, can Gustave not come over to visit his father and be positively giddy?" I replied, laughing at my own comment and at the expression on Nadir's face; if he hadn't known something was going on before, he certainly did by this point.

"Alright, out with it. What's..." Nadir began but trailed off as a smile slowly crossed his face. "Oh, I think I know what's got you so giddy."

Gustave scoffed as he helped me get out of all of my layers. "Sure you do Go on, take a guess. You'll never be..."

"You two are expecting."

"Oh, my g- how?!" Gustave exclaimed, sounding quite exasperated. "How do you always know? Can I not surprise you?"

"I have been around your father for too long. It's hard to take me by surprise," Nadir said with a laugh as he gave both me and Gustave tight hugs. "Congratulations, you two. This is so wonderful."

I now had the same giddy grin as my husband plastered on my face as I ran my hand over the bump of my stomach; I had found that I couldn't stop touching that little bump since I had found out about my pregnancy.

"Thank you, Nadir. We're just ecstatic," I said, standing on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "We weren't expecting to see you, but I'm glad that we did."

"Oh, I'm glad you did too," he replied, smiling as he looked at me. "And you're already showing as well. I couldn't tell when you were buried in coats and scarves."

"Is it such a crime to want to keep my wife warm?" my husband queried, clearly not too pleased with our teasing.

Nadir laughed to himself and patted his nephew's shoulder. "Not at all. Now, Adele is in the kitchen and will be so happy to hear this news, so you should probably come with me and tell her."

With a smile, Gustave wrapped his arm around my waist and kissed my temple as we followed Nadir into the kitchen, where we found Adele at the table with a teacup in front of her. "Oh, hello, you two. I thought I heard a loud exclamation from Gustave; you sound just like your father," she said.

"Yes, so I've been told," Gustave replied with a quiet laugh. "But, Madame, we have news and wanted to share it with you."

"Is that so?" Adele asked, getting to her feet to clear her dishes. "What sort of news?"

I shared a smile with Gustave before I spoke: "We're expecting a baby."

Adele gasped so sharply and turned at such a fast speed that her husband couldn't help but laugh. "Love, _we're_ not pregnant, take a breath."

"Oh, shut up," she retorted as she hurried over, her steps as light and delicate as ever, even with her excitement, and hugged me. "That's amazing, Lara, congratulations!"

"Thank you, Adele. That really means so much," I said with a smile, watching as she stepped over to hug Gustave as well. "We're very excited."

"I'm sure you are. Nadir and I are excited for you," Adele replied, stepping over to her husband and letting him wrap his arm around her waist. "How are you feeling?"

"Well, besides being ecstatic and a little nervous, not all that bad. I still get a bit sick some mornings, but otherwise, I'm well." I couldn't help but run my hand across my stomach as I spoke; the little bump and the soft flutters from within my womb were a reminder of the life growing inside me - the baby that we had waited to have for so long and that we were so excited to finally meet.

I noticed Adele smile thoughtfully as she watched me, her hand seemingly subconsciously coming to rest on her own stomach. I knew she had a daughter - Gustave had mentioned as much to me - but I could tell that she was missing getting to be a mother, given that she and her daughter weren't in contact anymore, or so I had been told. I could only imagine how painful it was; I hadn't even met the children I had miscarried and I missed them more than I could easily express, so I couldn't imagine how much harder it was to lose touch with the child she'd seen grow up.

"We're very glad to hear it, and we are so happy for you both," Nadir said. "Now, the expectant grandfather is up in his study, if you'd like to go tell him the news."

Gustave and I shared a glance as we prepared to put our plan to tell Erik in motion. "Yes, we'll go up right now," I replied.

With a grin on his face, Gustave led me up the stairs towards his father's study, Adele and Nadir following behind us. Reaching our destination, we found Erik at his desk, the telephone receiver held to his ear as he furiously wrote down notes while he talked. Ignoring the fact that his father was working, Gustave knocked on the door, only for us to get a quick over-the-shoulder glance and wave from Erik. I looked at my husband again before we turned to Erik again and decided to make our announcement.

"Hi Grandpa," the two of us said simultaneously, a grin already spreading across my face in anticipation of the impending reaction.

The one we got, though, was far from what I had expected; Erik simply raised a finger to silence us before apologizing to the person on the phone - who I could only assume was a client - and asking him to repeat his statement. I turned to Gustave in time to see him roll his eyes and open his mouth to speak again, but Nadir set his hand on his shoulder to stop him. He proceeded to knock harder on the door before saying something that sounded rather harsh in Persian; I only caught Erik's name, but he had clearly understood, as he straightened up slightly in his chair.

"Just a moment, sir," he said to the man on the phone, setting the receiver down on his desk and finally turning to us. "Yes?"

"Hang up," Gustave immediately replied, trying to sound annoyed despite the clear excitement in his voice.

With a sigh, Erik jotted something on his notepad before picking up the receiver again. "I am terribly sorry, sir, but I am going to have to call you back another time. I know, I'm sorry. Yes, I know we've been trying to arrange this call for quite some time," he said, giving Gustave a very pointed glare. "Yes, I am sorry. Some sort of family emergency has come up, it seems, but I will call you as soon as I can. I appreciate your understanding, sir, thank you. Have a good day."

As he set the receiver back in its cradle, he turned back to us with a sigh. "What can I do for you now that you've interrupted my business meeting?"

"Well, we just wanted to say hello, but do you notice anything different?" Gustave asked.

I couldn't help but laugh quietly when I noticed Erik start to panic slightly as he looked at both of us, searching for something that was off.

"Well...that dress isn't new but is just as lovely as always. Lara, you cut your hair a couple of weeks ago and Gustave looks the same, so...nothing glaringly obvious," he said hesitantly.

As observant as he was, sometimes he missed what was right in front of his eyes. "Are you sure?" I queried as I set my hand on my stomach to try and clue him in.

"Yes, quite sure."

I couldn't help but giggle as I looked back at Nadir and Adele, finding them laughing, but looking utterly exhausted with their long-time friend. "How?" I asked.

"Because he's dense, Lara. So incredibly dense," Nadir said with a laugh.

"Can I tell him? Please?" Gustave pleaded, clearly eager to reveal our news.

"Tell me what? Someone fill me in."

I smiled as my husband wrapped his arm around my waist. "Let's just say we hope you enjoy being called Grandpa because you'll be using that title quite a lot soon," he said.

The two of us couldn't help but laugh when Erik practically jumped out of his chair as he finally processed the news. "You...oh my god," he said with a laugh as he got to his feet just in time for me to hug him tight.

"It finally happened," I whispered, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

"I told you it would, my dear," Erik whispered as he kissed my temple, then turned to hug Gustave. "God, you're going to be a father, my boy. That's so incredible."

"I know, I'm so excited. Scared out of my mind, but ecstatic nonetheless," Gustave replied, giving his father a squeeze before they both turned to me again. "The baby actually started to kick a few days ago."

I nodded to acknowledge the comment, then took Erik's hand. "They're kicking right now, as a matter of fact," I said as I started to bring his hand towards my stomach to feel the same kicks I was talking about, only to frown when he pulled it away. "Erik?"

"I believe you, dear, I don't need to feel it. You don't-" he began, but I would hear none of his excuses, so I took his hand and set it on my stomach before he could protest again.

"Don't be uncomfortable, I don't mind at all. Now, just wait a moment," I said softly. I adjusted his hand's position slightly so it was resting on top of where the baby was kicking at that moment and couldn't help but smile when I noticed his eyes light up. "Did you feel it?"

Erik nodded as a smile formed on his face. "God, that's my grandchild. I'm so old," he said with a laugh. "But this is incredible, you two. I'm so happy for you; after all this time, you deserve this more than anyone."

"Thank you, Erik. That means a lot."

As he pulled his hand away from my stomach, Erik glanced over at Nadir and Adele with a frown. "You two know already, don't you?"

"We do, yes. They ran into us first," Nadir replied. "I guessed based on their smiles and Adele gasped so hard that she practically choked."

"Well, that's not nearly as fun as all of us finding out together, but it's too late now," Erik sighed. "What about your parents, Lara? Do they know yet?"

"We're going over now for dinner and plan to tell them tonight. We just wanted to stop by and tell the other grandparent," I said with a grin.

Erik smiled wide at that, and it was then that I realized that I hadn't seen him quite so happy in a while; seeing such a wide, genuine smile on his face made me recognize how much I'd missed it.

"Well, I appreciate it. I'm thrilled, you two, I really am," he said. "I get to uphold a promise that I made to someone decades ago to call myself Nonno were I to have a grandchild. Unless you two are set on calling me Grandpa."

"Nonno is perfect, Papa. You promised Giovanni that, didn't you?" Gustave asked with a smile.

"I did, yes. He held onto the thought that I would be a father and a grandfather one day, and I think he was living vicariously through me since I was like a son to him."

"Well, it will do perfectly. It will be easier to differentiate between you and Father," I replied. "And if it means you're upholding a promise, we are all for it."

"I appreciate it. Now, you two had better be off so you aren't late getting to Philippe and Marguerite's. Thank you for coming, though; I cannot wait to meet this little one."

* * *

Not long after leaving Erik's, Gustave and I were seated around my mother and father's dining table, in the middle of our dinner. We had yet to reveal to them that I was expecting a baby, intending to reveal it to them after, so I had strategically wrapped a shawl around myself to hide my stomach from my mother's very observant eyes.

"Lara, dear, would you like a glass of wine with dinner?" Mother asked, giving me a smile as one of the house servants filled her own glass.

"I'm going to pass on the wine tonight, Mother, but thank you. It wouldn't be good given my condition," I replied. I didn't even think twice about my response; I knew that some other women drank while with child, but I had decided against it so I wouldn't risk anything happening to my baby. Perhaps I was being overly cautious, but after waiting so long to have the child, I refused to overlook anything.

"Is everything alright, Lara?" I heard my father ask. As I looked over at him, I saw his fork held halfway to his mouth as he looked at Gustave rather suspiciously.

Realizing he had misinterpreted my words, I reached over and set my hand over his. "I'm quite alright, Father. Just for the sake of the baby, I'm trying to avoid alcohol."

"I see. That makes perfect sense, we wouldn't want to- wait. Oh my god!"

It was then, with my father's exclamation and my mother's gasp, that I realized that I had let the news slip without meaning to do so. "Oh, we had intended to tell you more formally after dinner, but...surprise," I said with a laugh.

"I thought you meant to do that," Gustave replied, and there was a frown on his face when I turned to him.

"Oh no, it just slipped out," I said. "I'm like Father in that way."

My husband simply smiled as he kissed my cheek. "And I love that about you," he said, chuckling when Father pulled him up onto his feet and hugged him.

"When did you two find out?" Mother inquired as she hugged me tightly then switched places with Father to hug Gustave, as awkward as it was for the two of them.

"Just a few days ago. We wanted a bit of time to enjoy this ourselves before we told everyone," I replied. _'And to make sure all was well and I wouldn't lose the baby again,'_ I wanted to add, but bit my tongue; neither of them knew about any of the miscarriages and I intended to keep it that way. Even if it did come out, I knew I would only ever tell Father. Mother would just meddle, I knew, and that was the last thing I wanted.

"Of course. I can only imagine you two are ecstatic," Father said, a wide smile plastered on his face as he sank back into his seat at the table. "Gustave, were you alright when you found out? You didn't faint or anything of that nature? Fatherhood is a weighty title; I know I panicked a bit when we found out André was on the way."

"You didn't panic _a bit,_ you panicked extensively," Mother replied with a laugh. "You had to sit down when I told you, but you bounced back up to hug me afterwards."

Gustave couldn't help but laugh at that; hearing about my parents' moments of domestic bliss wasn't a common occurrence, so it was always a bit funny when we learned little details.

"I didn't pass out, but I was nowhere near relaxed about it. That said, I think Lara can tell the story better than I can."

I smiled as both my parents looked at me expectantly. "Yes, I will happily tell you."

* * *

_I slowly sat up in bed and ran my fingers through my messy hair, smiling slightly as I thought back on what had put it in that state the evening before. I could hear Gustave singing to himself as he washed up in the ensuite and considered joining him, but I knew he had an appointment to keep for work and decided against holding him up in any way._

_As I got to my feet and slipped on my underclothes, I felt a wave of nausea wash over me. I had gotten accustomed to it by that point, having been dealing with a stomach bug of some sort for a short while. I had been managing the early morning illness, though having Gustave fretting over me as much as he was felt like a bit much sometimes. Still, I knew that all I could do was wait for it to pass._

_I stepped over to the armoire and opened it to select a dress to wear for the day, laughing to myself when I heard Gustave's singing quiet into humming; that little switch was enough to tell me that he had gotten out of the bath, was shaving his face, and would be out shortly. My husband had a routine, that much was for certain._

_All of a sudden, I was pulled out of my own thoughts when I felt the sensation of something...flipping in my stomach. I frowned deeply at that, trying to wrap my head around the strange feeling; it was nothing like the nausea I had been used to feeling, but I couldn't place what it was instead._

_But then, as I set my hand on my stomach, I felt it again...and again. Only then did I realize the feeling was little taps, and I immediately put the pieces together; the nausea, the tightness in my dresses and corsets that I had written off as weight gain, my missed cycles that I had ignored after a history of irregularity. Those weren't just random or coincidental; they were telltale signs that I had paid no heed to._

_I was pregnant, and I was further along than I had ever been. My baby was okay._

_Abandoning my dress on the bed, paying no heed to the fact that I was standing almost entirely undressed, I walked over to the mirror and looked at my profile. My hands on my tummy, I couldn't help it when tears started to fall down my face as I noticed the little bump my stomach had grown into. I had never been the kind of person to study and pick apart their appearance in the mirror, so I hadn't noticed the little bump my stomach had grown into. I had never been the kind of person to study and pick apart their appearance in the mirror, so I hadn't noticed the slight change in my own body; I was a bit surprised that Gustave hadn't noticed either when we were together the night before._

_"Is there something wrong, darling?" I heard Gustave ask. Turning my head, I saw him step out of the bathroom in his trousers, his shirt on but unbuttoned, his hair still damp after his bath._

_"No, everything is perfect, my love. Just perfect," I replied, giving him a small smile despite the tears in my eyes._

_"What's going on, then? You're standing in front of the mirror, in tears, in nothing but your drawers," he pointed out._

_None of what he had said should have made me more emotional, but alas, even more tears fell from my eyes. Thankfully, Gustave instantly ran over and wrapped his arms around me. "What's happened, love?" he whispered as he gently ran his fingers through my hair._

_"Something really good." I leaned my head against his chest, admiring the smell of his cologne that I loved so much; just that simple thing was enough to calm me to the point that I could reveal my news to him. "Gustave, we're having a baby," I whispered._

_He froze at that, his hands stuck in their place in my hair. "Are you sure?" he breathed._

_I nodded, lifting my head to look at him and smiling through my tears. "Yes," I said quietly. I took his hand then and set it over the spot where the baby's kicks were the strongest, as light as they were. "We're going to be parents."_

_Tears immediately pooled in Gustave's eyes as he gently ran his hand over my stomach and a quiet laugh of disbelief escaped him. "This...is incredible. A miracle! I love you so much," he said, leaning forward and pressed his lips to mine._

_"I love you too, Gustave. We did this together; this is our baby."_

_With a grin, Gustave lifted me into his arms and kissed me again, only for his eyes to widen as he set me back on my feet. "I'm sorry, I probably shouldn't do that. I don't want to hurt either of you."_

_"We're fine, I promise. Right now, I couldn't be any better," I said with a smile._

_I slipped back into my nightgown, figuring it was better than no clothes at all, and let Gustave pull me back onto our bed. The two of us then laid in silence, our hands resting on my stomach to feel our baby's kicking._

_"I can't believe this," Gustave eventually said, smiling through his words. "We're finally having our baby. We'll have to clear out the spare room for the nursery."_

_"We will, yes, but my love, you have to go to work," I said softly. "You can't be late for this meeting."_

_"But I want to stay here and just sit with you and feel our little baby kicking." He actually gave me a pout as he stopped speaking; clearly, he'd been taking notes from Lizzie and believed that making himself look sweet would change my mind._

_I raised my hand to pat his cheek then leaned over to kiss him. "And I would love that," I whispered against his lips, pulling away when he tried to kiss me again. "But you know you can't. Your father told you how important this client is, you cannot just forego your meeting. Even for this."_

_"Promise me that I can do it all I want when I get home," Gustave replied._

_"You have my word. Baby and I will be waiting," I said, a smile on my face at the simple mention of our baby._

_With a grin, Gustave kissed me before he leaned over and pressed his lips to my stomach. "I love you," I heard him whisper before he got to his feet, buttoned his shirt and grabbed his suit jacket, then hurried out of the room, smiling at me over his shoulder as he did._

_I leaned my head back against the pillow smiling as I rubbed my hand over my stomach. "Your papa is going to take good care of us, little one. Trust me on that," I said softly._

* * *

"Oh, Lara, that's so wonderful," Mother said as she took the handkerchief that Father was holding out to her to wipe her teary eyes. "You must be so excited."

"Yes, we truly are," I replied, holding Gustave's hand and locking our fingers. I wasn't oblivious to the fact that Mother had excluded him from her statement; on purpose or not, she'd done it, but I was determined to get her to completely accept Gustave into our family, one way or another.

Before anyone could say another word, Father gasped quietly and jumped to his feet. "I have something for you, don't move," he said before he took off out of the dining room.

"Goodness, this ought to be interesting," Gustave chuckled, sipping his drink as we waited for Father to rejoin us.

He did just that a moment later and set a white gift bag on my lap before he sat back in his chair. "Go on, open it," he said eagerly, smiling like a giddy child.

"Alright, alright." I laughed to myself as I reached into the bag, only for tears to immediately spring to my eyes when I pulled out a stuffed teddy bear dressed in a little vest. "Oh, Father," I said, throwing my arms around him and hugging him tightly.

"I've missed something, haven't I?" Gustave inquired, sounding rather confused.

I realized then that he truly had no clue as to why a simple teddy bear would evoke such an emotional reaction from me, so I filled him: "I had the very same bear when I was a little girl. It was my favourite thing in the world, I brought it everywhere."

"The original Mister Bear, as she called him, was well-loved, so I tracked one down and picked it up for the day you two had a little one of your own," Father added. There was a fond smile on his face as he no doubt reflected on my childhood as he so often did; he really was more sentimental than he let on.

"Well, thank you, Philippe. It means a lot," Gustave said, smiling as he reached over and shook Father's hand.

"Did you tell your father yet, Gustave?" Mother inquired as we went back to our meal; at least she included him in some conversation. "What was his reaction like?"

Gustave chuckled at that. "He practically jumped out of his skin. In a good way, of course. We interrupted a business call to tell him and he wasn't too pleased at first, but that changed when he heard the news."

"I would imagine. That man is so on edge, good lord," Father replied. "But he deserves to be a grandfather, to have this joy. He's had a tough go at life."

"We both have, but this baby is going to bring so much light to our lives. Lara and I couldn't be more thrilled."

* * *

Once dinner had concluded and the servants had whisked the dishes away, Father and I had decided to take our tea in the parlour by the fire. I felt a bit bad leaving Gustave to attempt to make conversation with my mother, but I had been really missing getting to talk alone with my father. He had always been the parent I was more comfortable talking to, but once I had married Gustave and moved out, I began to realize how much I missed talking to him, so I'd jumped at the opportunity when it was presented to me.

"I was wondering when you were going to give your mother a grandchild," Father said as he set down his teacup in its saucer. "Your brother has his family, of course, but they live so far away that it drives her up the wall."

"I was beginning to wonder when it would happen myself, all things considered," I replied, a nervous laugh escaping me as we came rather close to the topic I hadn't thought I would ever bring up. "We've wanted to for a while, but...things never went exactly the way we wanted. Or expected, frankly."

A frown quickly started to form on my father's face at that; I could tell that he had picked up on the fact that something was wrong. He'd always been able to tell.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked, his attention fixed on me as he tried to determine how to help.

"Father..." I began, trailing off as I tried to muster up the courage to tell him. When he reached over and set his hand over mine, though, stroking my knuckles with his thumb, I knew I would be able to do it. "Father, I've had four miscarriages over the past couple of years."

My heart ached as I watched the emotions flickering across his face; his confusion melted into shock, then into heartbreak as he pulled me into his arms and held me tight. "That makes this situation all the more perfect," he said softly.

Tears started to fall from my eyes as I buried my face in his shoulder, clutching the fabric of his blue suit jacket in my fists. "I'm just so glad I've finally managed to keep the baby. I've wanted one for so long," I choked out.

"I'm so sorry, my girl. I can't imagine what you've been through," he whispered as he gently rubbed my back. "But you know what? This just means that you are strong enough to handle anything that this baby can throw at you."

"I suppose. I hope so, at least. I really hope we know what we're doing."

Father leaned back then and gave me a warm smile as he brushed my tears away. "I'll tell you a secret about parenting, dearest; nobody really knows what they are doing. It is all a matter of trusting your instincts and going with what feels right. There is no rule book, no instruction manual. This is not something that you can study, no matter how much you try. This is something you'll have to learn by acting, and if I've had any influence on you at all, you should be alright."

"Thank you, Father. I really appreciate you saying that. It's been so hard these past couple of years, on me and Gustave," I admitted, my voice no longer as choked but still just as quiet.

"But now you can put all of that behind you because this is a happy time. No need to taint it with bad memories. This is going to be wonderful for everyone, but especially for you and Gustave," Father replied.

"We're so excited to finally have a baby, and I know you and Mother are going to be very happy as well. I know you both miss André and his family a lot," I said.

Father simply waved the comment off. "Don't you worry about your mother and me; this is for you and Gustave, nobody else. The two of you having a family of your own is everything I could have asked for. It means that I've done my job and you are ready to go out and do this on our own with someone you love. It is truly an amazing experience, and I couldn't be happier that you get to see that for yourself."

"Thank you, Father. For everything you've done," I said. I had to thank him; raising two children - both of whom were rather rambunctious at times - all while carrying the family legacy on his shoulders wouldn't have been easy, but he'd done it and I admired him greatly for it.

"I would do it all again in a heartbeat, baby girl."

I couldn't help but smile when he used the same nickname he had given me as a child, so I leaned forward to hug him tightly again. "I love you so much," I whispered.

"I love you too, Lara," he replied before he pressed a kiss to my temple.

"Father...could you please keep this between us?" I requested as I pulled away from our embrace. "I know Mother and if she finds out, she will fuss over every detail of my life more than she already does. I love her but I can't handle that."

"I understand. I'll keep it to myself if that's what you want. I know your mother can be a bit overbearing with you, but she loves you. Not to mention that André isn't here for her to fuss over."

I couldn't help but sigh at the mention of my older brother. "If only he were. I miss him so much and I would love to see his reaction to becoming an uncle."

"Yes, that would be priceless, quite honestly," Father replied with a quiet laugh. He loved Gustave when they met, so to hear that you two are expecting would thrill him.

"I wish he could have been here for the wedding. I hate that he had to miss it simply because of distance," I said. "Not to mention that I want to see his wife and little boy as well."

"Well, who knows? Perhaps he'll make it for a visit when your little one arrives."

I nodded, giving Father a smile before glancing at the grandfather clock to take note of the time. "Gustave and I should probably get home. I'm already noticing that I get tired a bit faster now."

"Your mother was the same when she was carrying André; she ended up on bed rest for the last three months of the pregnancy. I'm sure your experience will be completely different, though," Father replied as he stood up and kissed my cheek. "I'll go and have the servants fetch your cloak and shoes. Your husband's as well."

"Thank you, Father." I watched him go for a moment before I began to walk to the kitchen but stopped just outside the doorway when I heard my mother and Gustave talking about a rather interesting topic.

"I just want to be sure that you are aware of the financial responsibilities this entails," Mother said.

"I swear to you that my wife and my child will be taken care of." I could tell that Gustave was getting upset; he only ever referred to me as his wife in that fashion around Mother when she was being particularly difficult.

"You'll have to forgive me for being concerned, given what it is you and your father do for a living."

I heard Gustave sigh from outside the kitchen. Mother had always been worried about me being taken care of in terms of money.

"Marguerite, please. I love Lara, and this baby isn't even born yet but I love it too. I have tried everything to show you that I am more than capable of taking good care of my family. I know I don't come from this world and I know that it would be very hard to give them a life like this. But I have tried to make sure Lara is happy and until she tells me otherwise, I believe she is. Now, I have tolerated many of your comments about my station and I have endured them, but one thing I will never allow is for the company that my father built from the ground up while raising me to be degraded."

"I'd like you to try and see things from where I am standing. Lara is my only daughter and where I grew up, a woman was only allowed to rise in station through marriage or be considered a waste. You may see this as archaic but I have seen it ring true time and time again. I will not have my daughter and my grandchild be considered a social disgrace by your hand."

"Then I have a real question for you. If you were so worried about all of this for so long, why let me stick around as long as I have?" I could tell how much Gustave wanted to raise his voice but he would never around my mother, so instead, he went to the unwavering seriousness that sent a chill down my spine. "Why was I deemed the luckiest man in England and given the opportunity to propose? I'm sure you could have just as easily struck up a deal with one of the suitors you paraded her around to like some treasure up for auction while I was gone."

"How do you know about that?" I had never thought in a million years that Gustave would bring up the fact that my mother tried to get me to pick someone else while he was gone.

"That is unimportant." I let a sigh of relief escape, knowing that he didn't expose the fact that I had been the one to tell him in one of my letters. "What is important is the fact that I know you have been against me from the start and I know I will never get a decent answer as to why except for your financial concerns. So let me leave you with a fact that you already know but try to avoid every time you look at me: Lara chose me and even though I'll never understand why she did. Your grandchild will have my last name because like it or not, it is my child as well. I may be the mere son of an architect but I know how to make sure that there is food on the table and a roof over the heads of the people I love, so there is nothing for you to be concerned about."

I knew my mother and I knew that she had nothing she could really say to defend herself, so at that point, I seized my opening and stepped into the kitchen and smiled at Gustave. "Shall we go, love?" I asked.

Gustave nodded, saying goodbye to my mother before he walked into the front hall with me to get dressed, then stepped out into the snowy evening.

"What were you and Mother talking about so extensively? I don't think you've ever willingly talked to her on your own for so long before," I said, vouching to keep quiet about the fact that I had overheard the entire conversation.

"You know that your mother has never truly approved of me. It was just an extension of that."

I knew he wasn't telling me the whole story. "What was it about this time?"

"To put it simply she was worried that my line of work wouldn't be able to support all three of us. But I believe I put her worries to rest." I could see his jaw tense up; he was still angry but he was trying really hard not to let it show.

"I wouldn't let her get into your head," I said as I leaned my head on his arm as we walked. "She has always had the perfect man chosen for me since I was a young girl. I know that you aren't what she had in mind and I'm sorry you have to put up with the fact that she doesn't hide her feelings on the matter. But please trust me that even in a crowd of thousands, I will choose you every time."

"I trust you love. Always."

* * *

_**The next night...** _

Gustave and I had joined Adele and Nadir, Maddie, Charles, and Elizabeth for dinner at Erik's home, which was when we intended to tell everyone about the baby who didn't already know. The only issue was that we didn't know _how_ we were going to do that yet, so while we helped Erik wash the dishes, we attempted to come with ideas.

"I'm still not sure how to announce it. With Aunt Maddie, it should be at least a bit fun," Gustave said as he dried off a plate and set it in the cupboard.

"You still haven't told them?" Erik inquired, and it was all I could do not to laugh at him; his excitement about the baby was still practically melting off of him.

"Well, no, but you can tell them since you look like you'll spontaneously combust if you don't tell _someone,"_ Gustave replied with a laugh.

Even Erik couldn't help but chuckle at himself at that point. "Are you sure? It is your baby, after all."

"There's a baby?!"

The three of us quickly turned to the doorway of the kitchen at the sound of Maddie's shriek and found her with wide eyes and a grin on her face.

"Wh-baby? No th-there's no baby, what are you talking about?" Erik stuttered as he started to fidget with his wedding band, clearly nervous about spoiling our surprise.

I was quick to take his hand to stop the fidgeting, not wanting him to feel bad about it. "The cat's out of the bag, I suppose; yes, Maddie, Gustave and I are expecting a baby," I said with a smile.

With a squeal, Maddie ran over to hug Gustave and I tightly, then looked over her shoulder and called, "Charles, Adele, Nadir! Get in here!"

"Um, Uncle Nadir and Adele know already, Aunt Maddie," Gustave said with a nervous smile.

His expression was warranted as Maddie gasped and gave him a swift slap on the arm. "Why did they find out first?" she asked, her smile quickly giving away the fact that she was teasing him. "I understand your father, but why not me?"

"We bumped into them when we came over to tell Papa and Uncle Nadir just guessed!" Gustave exclaimed in his defence.

"Guessed what?" Charles asked as he stepped into the kitchen, Nadir and Adele behind him. "And why are you yelling, love? We were just in the other room."

"Lara and Gustave are expecting!" his wife replied, grinning as she turned to hug me again, then gently set her hand on my stomach.

Charles' eyes went wide before he laughed - out of disbelief, no doubt - and pulled Gustave into his arms. "My god, this is incredible! You two must be overjoyed!" he said excitedly.

"We are. It's a miracle and nothing less than that," Gustave replied with a laugh as Charles practically crushed him with the force of his hug.

"And Erik! You're going to be a grandpa!" Maddie exclaimed as she hugged him, hopping up and down on the spot as she did.

"I know. I'm very excited, but I feel so old," Erik said with a chuckle. "Stop bouncing, Madeleine, good lord."

Maddie simply rolled her eyes and gave his chest a playful smack. "Oh, shut up. The boy that is like my son is expecting with his wife, the excitement is warranted."

"Expectin' what?" I heard Lizzie ask, and I turned to see her wander into the kitchen, no doubt having heard her mother losing her mind from the other room.

"Well, Lizzie," Gustave said as he scooped her up, then gestured to me, "Auntie Lara and I are having a baby, so soon you'll have a cousin to play with."

"Oh," Lizzie replied. "But where's the baby?"

I smiled as I took a step closer to reply, setting my hand on my stomach. "You see, dear, the baby is growing in my belly. It will be here very soon," I explained.

"But how did the baby get in your belly?"

The immediate follow-up to that was a snort from Erik - though he tried to hide it - and a laugh without hesitation from Charles. Those two like to think they are mature, but they could not be further from it in truth.

"A stork! A stork is bringing it in a few months!" Maddie declared as she cupped her daughter's face in her hands and kissed her little nose. "That's how, dearest."

"That's the story we're going with? Really?" Erik asked, still laughing through his words.

"She's six, Erik! I'm not about to tell her what _really_ goes on." A fair point; she was still too young to be told exactly what went into creating a baby.

Erik nodded to at least acknowledge that point, only to argue it right away. "You can still tell her that a baby comes from daddy and grows inside mommy. You just don't have to tell her how it gets put there," he said, trying to sound confident despite the fact that he was clearly uncomfortable, which Nadir had clearly noticed, as he had started to laugh at his friend's attempted explanation.

"But how does it get put there, Uncle Erik?" Lizzie queried. Ah, the unending curiosity of children did make way for interesting conversations.

Before Erik could even attempt to reply, Madeleine jumped in again: "God gives the gift of a baby to people who truly want it, and he puts it in the mommy's tummy so that the baby can stay warm and loved while mommy and daddy get ready for it."

"I could have told her that," Erik said, sounding rather indignant.

"Be honest with yourself, Erik," Nadir quickly replied with a scoff.

"I would have! I have...some sort of filter around little ones."

Gustave decided to pipe up then and take advantage of the chance to pester his father: "I have yet to see it, so please let me know when you find it."

"Betrayed by my own son. What has the world come to?"

"You know I mean it out of love."

"Yes, yes, sure," Erik replied with a roll of his eyes. "You all truly think I would tell a child like Lizzie about such things at such an impressionable age?"

I laughed quietly and stepped over to set my hand on his arm. "You can be blunt sometimes, Erik, but that's alright; that's just how you are."

"At least my daughter-in-law loves me. I don't need my son," Erik replied as he wrapped his arm around my waist.

"I see. One joke and I'm disowned," Gustave said. "I love you too, Papa."

With a laugh, Erik tugged him over and hugged his son. "Oh, you know I love you, don't be so prickly."

"Anyhow, Liz- oh, and the child this debate surrounds has left. We're arguing over how children are created with ourselves. Fantastic," Charles said, tossing his hands up when he realized that his daughter had left the room.

"Yes? And?" Maddie asked.

"No, nothing. It's just amusing that this is what we're discussing, given that we all know how it works."

"Technically, we are debating about how I would have told her babies come into the world. Do try to keep up, Charles," Erik said with a rather sly smile.

Maddie rolled her eyes at the banter between the two fathers before she turned back to me and smiled. "So how are you feeling, Lara?" she asked.

"Well, right now, it's such a surreal feeling. I still can't believe this is truly happening," I said, smiling and turning to Gustave as he wrapped his arm around me and set his free hand on my stomach.

"I can imagine; I felt the same way when I found out I was expecting Lizzie. But physically speaking, how are you? Is your morning sickness quite bad?"

"It's not a party in any sense of the word, but we've been waiting for so long that it's worth it."

Madeleine smiled as she gave me another hug. "Well, you sound like you're managing, which is good. My morning sickness was a nightmare with both pregnancies," she said. "Just wait until the third trimester when the baby makes you have to use the restroom every half hour."

"My god, pregnancy sounds absolutely horrible," we heard Erik say with a bit of a laugh. Immediately, Maddie and I turned to him and shot him glares, daring him to continue; even Adele, who had been unusually quiet, looked over with a rather baffled expression.

Erik quickly began to scramble as he realized he had misspoken: "W-which is exactly why I respect women so much for going through it! Pregnancy and birth clearly display the extent of a woman's strength. So much stronger than us men. By far."

He may have stuttered his way through it, but it was a half-decent recovery, and Maddie seemed to agree: "I'll give you a passing grade for effort."

"Thank you." As he said that, Erik turned and gave Charles, who was laughing to himself, a swift punch to the arm. "I'm new to this, leave me alone. I wasn't around Christine when she was pregnant, this is only my second experience with this whole scenario."

Charles simply shook his head fondly as he patted Erik on the shoulder, then looked over to me. "As someone who understands pregnancy, unlike _some_ people, I know you need your rest, Lara. We'll head home soon so you two - or you three, rather - can get home too," he said, "But not just yet; we'll all have tea and muffins before we go."

As new topics sparked to life and everyone started to bustle around the kitchen to prepare dessert, I noticed Adele kiss Nadir before she stepped out of the room. I thought nothing of it at first, assuming she'd gone out to the restroom, but when she didn't return for some time, I decided to slip away to look around for her.

My search did eventually lead me to the bathroom, only because the door was slightly ajar and when I glanced in, I saw her standing in front of the mirror...in tears. It was an unfamiliar sight to me; I was so used to her being a strong woman who was a support system to everyone around her, so to see her looking so fragile was strange to see.

"Adele?" I said softly as I pushed open the door and took a step into the room. "Are you alright?"

"Oh, Lara, yes, I'm fine, dear," she quickly replied, brushing tears from her cheeks and smoothing out her dress. "What are you doing out here? You should be celebrating with your family."

"I noticed you left and were gone for some time, so I wanted to make sure you were alright," I replied before I grasped both of her hands. "And you are a part of my family. That's why I'm here with you right now. So what is going on? You've been crying, you cannot tell me that you are fine when you so clearly aren't."

It took a moment for her to reply, but finally, with a deep breath and a sniffle, she came clean: "I'm just thinking about my daughter. Seeing you and your husband celebrate your new little one has me recalling when my first husband and I were doing the same, which just makes way for the realization that I haven't seen my daughter in thirteen years."

My heart ached for her, the simple thought of not seeing my child enough to make tears prick at my eyes before I pulled her into a hug. "I'm so sorry. I can't even begin to imagine how hard that would be," I whispered.

"I appreciate that, dear. I try my best not to be upset about it, but it's not the easiest sometimes," she replied, her voice getting even tighter than it had been just a moment before.

"I would think it is," I said with a sigh, gently rubbing her back to try and soothe her if I could. I wasn't exactly able to sympathize, but I wanted to show her that I cared nonetheless, which prompted me to continue: "Have you talked to your husband about it?"

"Nadir knows, yes," Adele said, nodding as she pulled away from my arms and wiped another few tears away. "I don't tell him every time I feel this way, but he knows about this whole mess."

I sighed and wrapped my arm around her as the two of us stepped just out of the bathroom into the hallway. "But why not? He cannot help you if he doesn't know, and I'm sure that all he wants to do is help you."

"I just don't want to trap him in the middle of all of this," Adele replied, looking down at her feet as her breaths grew shakier. "That's his stepdaughter, but he barely knows her, besides exchanging one or two greetings more than twenty years ago in Paris. I don't wish to burden him with memories and troubles surrounding someone he hardly knows."

"Adele, he loves you _so_ much. You know that it must kill him to know you're struggling at all. If he found out that you aren't telling him these sorts of things, I can only imagine it would break his heart to know you're struggling on your own," I said gently. I was not trying to guilt her for not talking to her husband, but I knew how hurt Gustave was when I kept things from him; I was only offering advice that came from experience.

Before she could reply, we both turned our heads at the sound of footsteps and set our eyes on Nadir, who had clearly been looking for us. As soon as he set his eyes on his wife, concern washed over his face and he picked up his pace to get to her side as quickly as he could.

"Adele, what's going on?" he asked gently, rubbing her back as she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest.

"Can we go home?" Adele replied, her voice quiet as she lifted her head to look up at her husband, then turned to me. "I'm sorry to ask that in front of you, Lara, but I-"

"Say no more. Just go home and rest," I said with a nod.

Nadir turned her back to look at him, then brushed a tear from her cheek before he leaned down to kiss her. "Go get ready. I'll be there in a moment."

As she stepped away, her destination being the front foyer, Nadir turned to me, seemingly for answers, but I didn't think it was my place to disclose them.

"She has a lot on her mind," I said with a slight shrug.

"Lara, please. She hesitates to tell me what's wrong at times like this, but I don't want her having to cope alone. Please tell me; I promise she will not be cross with you," Nadir replied, his eyes pleading with me to help him.

How could I not?

"She said that seeing all of us celebrating about the baby is bringing up some memories and making it a bit difficult for her to smile along with the rest of us."

Nadir sighed at that. "She's missing Meg," he said, his voice practically a whisper.

More details already! Now that I had more information, I had to know more; I trusted Nadir to decide to withhold certain information.

"So her name is Meg. Why haven't they kept in touch?" I inquired.

"She...because Meg is the one who kidnapped Gustave and killed Christine," Nadir replied quietly.

My heart leapt into my throat; Gustave never talked about that night, and Erik had never stated a name for Christine's murderer. Now I was discovering that his best friend's stepdaughter was the one who had killed the woman he adored; it was no wonder he never mentioned it.

"But...why would she...why?" I asked, needing details that have never been granted to me before.

Sighing heavily, Nadir leaned up against the wall as if he needed its support to continue. "In America, Erik needed investors to get his theme park business off of the ground, so to try and help with that, Meg used...her body to draw them in."

"What?" I gasped. My eyes had to have been as wide as saucers; I had had a few ideas of what he might say - working with Erik, working long hours - but...prostitution had not been one of them. "And Erik..."

"Had no idea," Nadir finished. "He found out that dreadful night when she threw it in his face. She wanted his admiration, his attention...his love. She'd fallen for him and wanted him to acknowledge it."

"But he was still in love with Christine," I said quietly, the pieces slowly starting to come together. "So Adele cut ties because of that."

Nadir nodded, the smallest of smiles on his face. "Erik is like a son to her; he was hurt beyond repair that night, which really hurt something in her," he said. "And...decisions were made on all three of their parts, and not the best ones at that, though I won't go into detail. After that, Adele thought it best to limit contact with her daughter."

"But she so clearly misses her so much. I'm amazed that she's been able to stay apart from her."

"It isn't easy; the two of them exchange the odd letter now and again to make sure they are...well, alive and all. It is hard for Adele, though; Meg has married, she could have children that her mother has never met and likely doesn't even know about. It is incredibly difficult for my wife, I can tell."

I nodded, my mind racing a bit with all the information I had been given. "You should go, then. She needs you," I said softly, not wanting to hold Nadir back from comforting his wife.

"She does, yes, so I'll be on my way," Nadir replied as he stepped over and gently kissed my cheek. "Good night, Lara. Congratulations again on your little one."

"Thank you," I whispered before I wrapped my arms around him. "Give Adele my love."

* * *

That night, after we had gone home, Gustave had been gushing to me about the baby more than he had the day we found out about my pregnancy. I was glad to let him; seeing him practically giddy at the prospect of finally becoming a father warmed my heart like nothing else. I had been considering bringing up what Nadir had told me about, but seeing how happy he was, the last thing I wanted to do was ruin that. All I could do was hope that Adele was okay.

"I'm ridiculously excited, Lara. I don't know how we're going to do it, but I'm excited nonetheless," Gustave said as he folded his clothes to put them away in the dresser.

"I'm excited as well, Gustave," I said with a smile, only for it to slowly fade as a rather daunting thought crossed my mind and I admitted, "But...I can't help but be a little afraid."

"Afraid of what?" Gustave asked as he turned to look at me where I sat at my vanity. "You're going to be such a wonderful mother, and you've wanted this for so long."

"I know I have, and I know that you are going to be an amazing father. But Gustave, so many women struggle and die in childbirth without any complications with conceiving or miscarriages. I can only imagine that risk for me has increased after dealing with both of those things. I want to have this baby with you so badly; I just don't want them to grow up without me."

My husband sighed heavily as he sat down on the edge of the bed. Not that I was surprised; I had just broached a heavy subject after a long day, after all.

"I'm not going to lie to you, Lara; that thought has crossed my mind too," he admitted, his eyes locked on his feet.

"Then how are you not a wreck?" I asked as a quiet laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it. The topic was not funny in the least; what amused me was how calm he appeared while I was petrified by the prospect of dying after giving birth to my son or daughter.

"I never want to lie to you, not even now, about this, so I won't; it terrifies me too, Lara," Gustave confessed. "The thought of losing you is the scariest thing that has ever crossed my mind. Even still, you are one of the strongest women I know, and I'm confident you are going to pull through. That said, I want you to decide what you want to do when you give birth, so I leave it up to you to choose where you wish to deliver our child; at home or in the hospital. Whatever makes you comfortable."

"I think that's something we can decide later on. I want to do a bit more research first."

Gustave nodded and shot me his lopsided smile that I adored so much. "Of course. Now, to lighten the mood. I had some name ideas that we could toss around."

"Wonderful idea. You go first," I proposed as I returned his smile, immediately excited about discussing what name to give our baby.

"Well, I've always liked Benjamin for a boy. I'm not quite sure why, but it's true," he said. "And for a girl...Sarah, perhaps. What about you, my love?"

An idea immediately sprung to my mind; it had been my first choice ever since we had first started trying to have a baby, but I knew I had to propose it delicately.

"I've been thinking that if it is a girl, we could name her Christine," I replied as I got up to sit on the bed beside him.

Gustave fell silent then as he considered that suggestion; he started to absentmindedly toy with his ring in the meantime, which was enough to tell me that this had been weighing on his mind for longer than he was admitting.

"She's never going to meet our baby," he eventually said, his voice barely a whisper when he spoke.

"But to name our baby after someone so important to you...wouldn't that be special? To keep your mother's memory alive?" I asked, trying to help him appreciate the more heartwarming aspect of my suggestion instead of the heartbreaking ones.

"It would be, yes, and I would love to give her my mother's name, but it just stings to know that they'll never meet. And Papa...what would he do with that?"

"Love her just as much as we know he will."

I wasn't surprised to see tears pool in his eyes and a few fall onto his face; talking about his mother had been hard for him since I had first met him, and I knew that it would likely always be hard for him. Wanting to do anything I could to help, though, I took his hand and set it on my stomach, reminding him of the beauty we now had in our lives.

"You know your father will love this little one no matter what we call them. You and I, however, will love them even more," I said softly as I reached up to cup his cheek in my hand and brush a tear away, feeling him lean into my touch. "And your mother would have adored them. She's with you, you know she is."

"I just wish she were here to see this. To know she's with me through memories and the fact that I recall her face and voice and the way her perfume smelled like lavenders, but to actually _see_ her face, _hear_ her voice, and _smell_ that perfume when I hug her is another matter entirely," Gustave replied.

"I know, my love, I know," I sighed, brushing my thumb across the apple of his cheek. "It hurts, but you have to know that she would be so happy for you. And you recall her voice as you said; you'll always have that memory with you."

More silence followed as he no doubt processed what I said, then quietly spoke once more: "I just wonder if she's proud of me. If this is what she wanted for me. I know she'd never say she was disappointed, but I can't help but wonder."

"Of course she's proud of you!" I probably sounded rather indignant with that exclamation, but I refused to let him feel that way. "You have made a life for yourself here, Gustave! You're a hard-working young man, you care for your father, you have loving friends...and you have us. She would want nothing more for you, I'm sure of it."

A small smile crept onto his face as he intertwined our fingers and pressed a kiss to the back of my hand. "I have you," he said with a nod. "There is no doubt in my mind that she guided me to you. That is how I know she is with me."

"You're very sweet," I whispered as I leaned over and kissed him gently, neither of us in the mindset for anything more intimate.

"So it's settled then; if we bring a daughter into this world, she will be named Christine," Gustave said. "A little piece of my mother."

"Now, what about a boy? I do like Benjamin, but a second option could be good as well."

"Oh, we'll come up with something, but I have a feeling that it is going to be a girl."

I smiled at his confidence, and my smile only widened as yet another thought crossed my mind. "Can we tell Erik that we're calling the baby John if it's a boy?" I asked with a giggle.

"I think he would die laughing."

"Perfect."

* * *

_**NADIR** _

Lara's words about helping Adele deal with the heartache she was so clearly feeling had been running through my mind the entire way home and had only resonated even more when we got home and my wife immediately made her way upstairs. All I could do was sigh heavily before I quickly cleaned up the first floor of the house, then made my way upstairs after her.

As I stepped into the bedroom, I found Adele sitting on her side of the bed, her back to the door and her head hung. She was still fully dressed, I noticed, which said much about how she was feeling; she much preferred to get out of her corset and petticoat as soon as she could.

Deciding to leave her be for another moment, I quickly changed into my nightclothes before I got on the bed and sat behind her. Setting my chin on her shoulder, I finally got a look at what was holding my wife's attention; a locket that opened to reveal a picture of Meg as a young girl - probably no older than two or three - and a lock of her blonde hair along with it. I couldn't recall the last time I saw her pull out that photograph, which told me enough about how much she was struggling.

"Why didn't you say something?" I asked as I kissed her cheek, then started to undo the buttons of her dress, watching some of the tension slump from her shoulders as I did.

"I didn't want to drag you into the middle of it," she whispered in reply, her eyes still focused on the locket.

I sighed at that and looked at her over her shoulder. "You are my wife and I want to help, whether I get pulled into the middle of something or not," I said gently. "For better or worse, always and forever, remember?"

As she turned to me, tears in her eyes, my heart ached to see her so broken. So I carefully took the locket from her and set it on her nightstand, then gave her a gentle kiss. "Let's get you out of your dress and corset so you can relax, alright?"

She simply nodded and stood up slowly, then slipped her arms out of her dress while I stepped behind her to unlace her corset. Once she was down to her chemise - which was about the most casual I had ever seen her -, I opened my mouth to try and further our conversation but was cut off when she turned around and pressed her lips to mine. I wasn't going to turn that down - what sort of husband would that make me? - but it was when the kisses deepened and she gently pushed me back onto the bed that I caught on to what was really going on.

"Adele, Adele, hang on," I said as I broke away from the kiss to look at her, trying to wrap my head around what was happening.

"I'm fine, I just need a distraction," she insisted, sitting up and tried to undo the first couple of buttons of my nightshirt with shaky hands even while her bottom lip quivered as she fought back tears.

With a sigh, I gently grasped her wrists and pulled her down to lay next to me, then held her tight when her tears immediately started to fall.

"It's going to be okay, my love," I said softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "And before you do, please don't apologize for what just happened. I know you're in a foggy state of mind at the moment."

"I-I just miss her so much," she choked out through her tears. "A-and I know I shouldn't because of what she did, but-"

"Shh, don't say that. Errors or not, she is your daughter and you are allowed to miss her," I said softly, reaching up to wipe her tears away. "It's going to be alright, I promise."

She nodded, giving me a weak smile as she wiped away the last of her tears. "I know. As long as I have you with me, I'll be alright. And I'm trying to focus on being happy for Gustave and Lara; they're having a baby, so I am taking on some of that joy if I can."

"Good. That's the right attitude to have," I said with a nod. "Trust me, I know how much of a struggle it is to have been away from your child for years on end; I know it all too well. But I also know that having a support system around you makes all the difference. While I had a rather shotty one at times with a teenage Erik, you have me and I am here for the long haul."

"He wasn't a shotty one," Adele says, laughing quietly at the comment. "He cares about you now and he did then as well. He was just young."

"Exactly, which made him a shotty support system at some moments," I chuckled. "But he was there for me when I needed him, which is the important thing. I know you're going to be alright soon. As long as it takes, though, I'm right here with you."

"Thank you. I love you so much," she whispered, briefly nuzzling her nose against mine before she kissed me.

"And I love you more," I whispered just before she kissed me again, but I smiled through it and pulled away when she shifted over to lay on top of me. "And just what do you think you're doing?"

"Well, feeling better or not, I could still use a bit of a distraction from everything," she replied, sounding almost bashful about making that subtle request.

I smiled at that, brushing a loose piece of hair behind her ear as I felt her hands retake their position to unbutton my shirt. "I love you."

"Always and forever," Adele whispered before kissing me again, that simple gesture enough to make every worry wash away for the moment.


	32. We Welcome An Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nope, sorry. spoilers :D

**_MAY 1922_ **

**_GUSTAVE_ **

It was getting late into the night as I made my way over. I knew he might be asleep, but it was the only place I could realistically go.

"What are you doing here? Without your wife, at that?" my father asked when he opened his front door. I couldn't decide if he was more annoyed or concerned about my showing up at his doorstep. However, contrary to what I had previously thought, he was still properly dressed and wide awake; I thought I had even seen Uncle Nadir inside.

I hung my head in shame before replying: "Lara kicked me out."

"What? Your wife, who is nine months pregnant, kicked you out?" He looked almost nervous, though I couldn't tell if it was out of concern for me or Lara. "She can barely walk, Gustave."

"Yes, but she can hit me with a hairbrush," I explained as I rubbed the back of my head where a bruise had undoubtedly begun to form.

"She hit you with a hairbrush? As in, a light tap? On the arm?" Clearly, he did not understand the power of my wife's backhanded swing.

"More of a smack on the back of the head with the handle."

He let out a small chuckle at the mental image he was probably getting before asking a question that would inevitably give him an even more entertaining answer: "What on earth did you do?"

"Apparently I breathe too loud."

"You...you what? Do you mean you snore too loud?" His confusion matched my own but I heard a laugh from inside that confirmed that Uncle Nadir was, in fact, visiting and probably already had thought of a list of ways to make fun of me.

"You'd think, but no." I was too tired to even try and put things delicately. "I was just laying on the couch, existing, and the next thing I knew, I had a lump developing on the back of my head."

"Right. Well, you can wait here until you deem it safe to come back home," he said. He tried to stifle a laugh, that much I knew, but he let me in and tried to hide it with his look of confusion.

"So you finally hit the point where your breathing is too loud, hm?" Uncle Nadir finally piped in once I entered the living room. "Are you officially sleeping on the couch at this point?"

I flexed my back and heard about half a dozen cracking sounds. "My spinal cord answers that question for me," I said.

"Ah, I see. Why did she kick you out of bed? Was it the breathing, or were you stealing the blankets?" Uncle asked.

"I think you mean that I was using a singular blanket so I didn't freeze," I shot back.

"Oh, so she revoked the blanket privileges and refused to sleep close to you because you breathe too loud and you make her overheat. I recall that point." Somehow, he knew exactly what had happened without ever having set foot through my front door.

Papa had been watching our exchange and seemed to be developing more questions than answers. He finally put his hands up in surrender and said, "I'm just going to let you do the parenting in this moment because I have no idea how any of this is supposed to make sense."

"It doesn't, really. Hormonal, pregnant women don't make much sense, but God help the poor soul who tells her such a thing." Uncle Nadir looked at me with warning in his eyes telling me exactly what I should never do. "So yes, Erik, just let me play the father here and keep your opinions to yourself before Gustave listens to you and goes home to get Lara more upset."

"Oh, I'm not going back until either that phone rings or she comes through that door. I'm choosing to live in fear," I said as I leaned back into my spot on the couch. "I think I am actually more afraid of her right now than I was of my commanding officer."

"Good decision," he said in a very point-blank manner. "Trust me, though, you'll be back at home in about twenty minutes when she gets here and is an emotional mess because she misses you. I know that all too well." He seemed to be remembering things that I could only imagine had to do with his first wife; it looked like he was enjoying it instead of being upset by it, so I saw no reason not to press on.

"You really think so? She seemed pretty annoyed," I remarked.

I was actually quite surprised to hear him let out a small laugh at that and Papa seemed to be just as surprised as me when he heard it. Normally, when Uncle Nadir spoke about that time in his life, he was so drawn back and closed off. I suppose because it was a memory of a better time that made it easier for him to talk about.

"Believe me, Gustave, I know. Rookheya did the exact same thing to me; she got mad at me for something trivial - chewing too loud or something of that nature - but then ended up coming to the palace to get me because she missed me and I had left without saying goodbye. It is one extreme to the next in a matter of moments."

"This is insane. Thank god this is almost over," I said as I put my face in my hands with a sigh.

"Oh, you're cute if you think it ends when she gives birth." I immediately looked back up at that with a feeling of horror rising in my chest.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Gustave, if you believe the hormones and mood swings just go away when she has the baby, you are very wrong." With that simple statement, the bubble of hope I had been trying to protect got shot by a dart. "The hormones just change once the baby is born; she's still going to be emotional and moody once your little one arrives."

I had known the answer I was bound to receive, yet had still wanted it to be something different. "I'm just going to live in constant fear for the rest of my life, aren't I?"

"Indeed you are. You'll be allowed back in the bed, though, which is always nice," Nadir said with a nod.

I tried to lighten my own spirits with a laugh before trying to make a joke: "Such a world exists?"

"In which you're allowed back in bed?" Both my father and uncle were laughing but Nadir was the only one who validated my question: "Yes, it does. Eventually, she'll miss getting to cuddle up to you and she'll complain that she's cold without you, so she'll bring you back."

"But she has literally all the blankets!" I exclaimed.

"Yes, but none of them are comparable to the warmth that you give her when you hold her. Or so Rookheya told me. I'm only speaking from the one reference I have." I realized then that Uncle had never just casually said her name before; I think that might have been the third time I had ever even heard her name in my entire life.

My father just raised his hands in surrender, fully acknowledging that he had no idea what he was doing.

"This is exhausting," he declared.

"You didn't have to deal with it, so shut up. You escaped." My Uncle's comment earned a laugh from me and him, but a slightly pained expression from Papa simultaneously.

"That doesn't make this any less exhausting," he said, clearly trying to brush off the fact that he was uncomfortable, but I knew better; he often mentioned that he would have given anything to have been there when Mother was pregnant with me, so it was painfully obvious that the comment had hurt. He told me how much he wished he had been there for me to see all the little things when I was growing up and made me swear that I would be there when they happened with my own child. Nevertheless, I knew he felt out of place since he had no advice to give.

Uncle decided to keep the joke going in an attempt to cheer him up; I had no doubt that if I was able to see his distress, Uncle Nadir would see it plain as day.

"Then _leave._ You don't have to sit here and listen," he retorted.

"But this is funny," Papa said with a strained laugh.

"So stop complaining, for Allah's sake," Uncle said with over-dramatic exasperation.

"It's not complaining. It's acknowledging the facts," Papa replied.

The two of them were going to start going at it and I was too tired to be entertained by it, so I tried to bring the conversation back to its original topic: "Can we circle back to the fact that I just got kicked out of my own home by my wife?"

"Gustave, relax," Uncle said, still obviously amused by the whole scenario. "I'm sure she'll be here soon and everything will be fine. She'll probably be upset with you, but just go along with it, hug her if she cries, and all will be well."

"Someone should really write this down in a handbook or something," I proposed.

"If someone could truly figure out how that works, then I'm sure they would," Uncle said, seemingly taking a more serious tone all of a sudden. "Every pregnancy is different, though; it is almost impossible to define how it will go for each woman. There can be similarities sometimes but there are a lot of external factors."   
  


"What would that book even be called?" Papa piped in as he clearly was thinking out loud.

"What did I say about the amount of authority you have on this subject, Erik?" Uncle asked, trying to get the jokes going again.

With a sigh, my father replied: "That I don't have any, I know, I know."

"Then what do you need to do, Erik?" Uncle prompted.

"Stop talking." It came out as a mumble from Papa's mouth and I barely caught what he said. For once, he was the one mumbling and couldn't heckle me about it.

Uncle tried to liven things with dramatics once more as he exclaimed: "He can be taught, ladies and gentlemen." He stood up with his arms in the air then as if there was truly an audience that had witnessed a miracle.

Papa was laughing, and not like before, it was more of a genuine laugh at how foolish his friend was behaving. "Alright, alright. Stop talking to me and give my son advice."

"Yes, please," I begged.

"I have given you my advice. You are going to be fine. You just need to take the moods in stride, that's all I can say," Uncle explained before coming up with one last addition on the spot: "At this point, she is always right. Just remember that."

"I know I'm not supposed to interject but this is simply an add on to that comment," Papa said with the look on his face as if he had just had a breakthrough. "Her being right lasts a lot longer than just her being pregnant, and that rule goes for every woman in your life. Why do you think I'm deathly afraid of Maddie?"

I shrugged, an answer immediately coming to mind: "Because she's small and terrifying."

"Well, that's valid, but that's also because if I try to correct her, she might just kill me," Papa replied. That made us all laugh, but deep down, we had the understanding that it was completely true; if there was one thing on earth that Maddie hated, it was being corrected on a subject where she felt she had authority.

"That point is acceptable, Erik, given how valid it is. Just never tell her that she's wrong, _especially_ not where the pregnancy or the baby is concerned. Mother knows best, Gustave," Uncle Nadir said with a nod.

I thought about it for a moment, and when taking that comment at face value, my first thought was the fact that it was my child too, but going deeper, I realized that for much of its infancy, the baby was going to depend on Lara and there was nothing I could do to change that. My time would come later on and I would have to be patient.

"I'll take it into consideration," I replied.

"Smart decision. Now make yourself a cup of tea and just wait. Your wife will be here soon enough, I'm sure," Uncle said.

"I'm slightly afraid of that moment," I admitted with a sigh.

"Don't be," Uncle said, trying to soothe the ball of anxiety that was building in my chest. "She won't be upset; she'll probably be more teary-eyed and emotional than anything. Just relax."

I appreciated the fact that he was trying but it didn't really have an impact. "I've resolved to just live in a state of anxiety. To be fair, that's nothing new compared to the previous years of my life." 

"That's fair. Well, go ahead, stay anxious. We'll see how it goes when she gets here."

~

After about twenty minutes of the three of us spending time together and talking, there was a knock at the door. Both my father and uncle looked at me, clearly expecting me to get up and answer the door. However, instead of getting up, I looked back at them and blurted out, "I don't want to open it."

"Fine, then I'll open it," Uncle Nadir said as he got up and made his way to the front door.

Papa then gave me a look of complete disapproval. "You are a coward. You know that, don't you?" he said to me.

"I may be a coward, but I survive," I replied. He returned my affirmation with a look that told me that if I didn't get up on my own accord, he was going to pull me from my chair. To avoid that, I got up and made it to the front door just as my wife was waddling her way through the threshold.

"Why did you leave without saying goodbye?" she asked. She looked so sad that I couldn't even be upset anymore. Uncle Nadir gave me a look that clearly said that he knew he was right, but instead of giving him that satisfaction I simply brought Lara into a hug as best I could with her stomach between us.

I didn't even have time to apologize before she continued: "I would have been here sooner but I couldn't get my shoes on because I can't see my feet. Not to mention that my feet are swollen on top of that, so they hardly fit in my shoes."

"It's alright, love. I'm right here," I tried to reassure her.

She then let me go and gave me a push on the chest, pointing an accusing finger at me. "No, it's not alright because I'm three times the person I used to be. None of my dresses fit me anymore, Gustave. I've never been this big in my life. I blame you for this," she retorted.

"Yes, I am to blame." I agreed with her, at least that accusation seemed to make a bit more sense to me and made it easier for me to do so. Uncle looked at me then with a nod that said he was pleased that I'd taken his advice.

"I am through with being pregnant. I just want to have this baby and be done with it," Lara said with a sigh. Little did she know how tired I was of the whole experience as well, but that was one of those thoughts that I had to make sure didn't escape my mind for fear of not being allowed back into my home.

"I can't wait to meet the baby too, dear. You're almost there," I said softly.

A look of shock followed by a smile made its way across her face as she put her hand down over her belly. "Our baby wants to meet you too. They're trying to say hello," she explained.

I knelt down and put my hands on either side of her stomach, then began talking to it in hopes of accomplishing two separate goals; the first being to cheer her up, and the second being the fact that I truly did hope that the baby could hear me: "Hello to you too, little one. I can't wait to meet you, and neither can your mother."

At least one of my goals was accomplished considering that I felt her hands ruffle through my hair and when I looked up, I saw a smile on her face that I wanted to stay there forever.

"I'm sorry I hit you with my hairbrush," she said and I could tell that she truly felt bad about it.

"It's okay. I'll be okay, the bump will go away," I said with a laugh, trying to make it seem like it was more entertaining than anything else which, in a way, it was.

"You didn't deserve that," she replied.

"You were upset, it's fine." I could tell that, by that point, she was truly feeling guilty and I didn't want that. "I know you're beyond uncomfortable, you're allowed to do things like that."

"Thank you. I know I'm not the best to deal with at times," she admitted.

Getting to my feet, I kissed her and put my hand on her stomach before saying, "I'd do it all again for you, love."

* * *

I was shaken awake rather violently at about four in the morning by Lara, who had finally let me come back into our bed. I thought initially that she was going to send me back to the couch because of my breathing, but I was greeted with something entirely different when I lifted my head; her breathing was staggered and she was scrunching her face as though she was in a great deal of pain. She was still shaking my arm as I sat up, but it wasn't until I was able to see her properly that I realized exactly what was happening.

"Lara, darling, is this what I think it is?" I inquired. I knew it was a stupid question that could have ended with me getting hit, but I needed to ask nonetheless.

"The baby is coming, Gustave," she said with a slightly remarkable level of sarcasm and annoyance given the state she was in.

Almost immediately, my heart both stopped and reset itself. I was officially going to be a father. My first thought before anything else was to make sure that Lara was alright before it was time to call the midwife; she had given us a whole list of instructions of what needed to happen before she was called.

"Lara, I am going to go and run you a bath. Unless, of course, you want me here until this is done," I said.

Without really giving me an answer, she grabbed my hand and squeezed it tightly. The midwife had told me that she was going to be going through a lot of pain during the contractions and that she may take some of it out on me. I had been expecting shouting and something along those lines, not for her to almost break my hand, but she held on like that until her breathing went back to normal and she finally released it.

"That bath sounds like a wonderful idea," she said, sounding rather breathless.

I left to go and run it for her, shaking my hand out in order to make sure it was still functional; I could have sworn I felt a pop somewhere. Once the bath was ready, so was Lara; the midwife had asked that she be at least partially dressed for the bath, so she was simply in her nightgown when she stepped into the tub.

She was shaking slightly as I was helping her in, I noticed. "Are you alright?" I asked. "You're shaking."

"I'm fine," Lara replied quietly.

"No, you aren't. Your eyes are doing that thing they do when you're nervous," I said.

She looked both surprised and confused at my remark. "What thing?"

"When you are nervous, your eyes dart all over the place as if you're trying to notice and analyze every little detail."

"You know, sometimes it's annoying that you can read me like a-" she began, only to be cut off by what I could only assume was another contraction, during which she grabbed the sides of the bathtub instead of my hand and held on for dear life. I could tell that she wanted to cry out, but for some reason, she wasn't allowing herself to.

Once it was done, I checked my watch and mentally marked the time in between the two contractions, noting that they still weren't far enough apart to warrant calling the midwife to take over.

"It is going to be alright, love. You are doing great," I said in an attempt to reassure her, but the look in her eyes was enough to tell me that she wasn't fully hearing me. "What are you thinking about?"

"I'm scared," was all she said and she didn't even look at me when she said it; she just stared at the bathroom wall.

"Scared of what? Talk to me," I prompted her.

Her breath was staggering again, but I didn't think it was a contraction that time. "I don't know if I am going to survive this," she said, her words hitting me like a ton of bricks.

"Don't think about that," I said. We were both trying to avoid the inevitable reality of the fact that we were both afraid of her dying; that much was obvious.

"It's impossible not to. After everything we went through to get here, I can't help but wonder if it was a sign."

"A sign of what?"

"That I am not meant to be a mother," she said quietly.

I wasn't sure what to say. I couldn't imagine life without her, let alone raising our child, but I knew that, in that moment, I needed to be there for her and try to calm her down as much as possible to make the entire process easier for us both.

"Lara, I am terrified too; don't think that I am not. I don't know what I'd do without you, but we can't think like that right now. What matters now is remaining calm until it is time to call the midwife and she can help you through this," I said.

"You're right. I know you're right. What would I do with-" she started, only to be cut off by a contraction yet again. They had progressed so quickly; I was surprised to find that we were already at the interval in which the midwife was supposed to be called.

I stayed with her until it was over. I knew I didn't have much time left with her until after the baby was born. The midwife had made it very clear that I could wait outside the room but could not come in; she and her assistant needed their space, apparently.

* * *

A few hours had passed and Lara's contractions hadn't progressed; the midwife's assistant came out every so often to keep me updated, which was something I greatly appreciated. Once it was a more reasonable hour, I called both of our parents to tell them what was happening. I was able to get a hold of Papa almost immediately, but with Lara's parents, however, I had to go through the rounds of about three butlers and maids before I was able to actually get a hold of Philippe. They had both wanted to come over immediately, but I had assured them that it seemed we had plenty of time, seeing as Lara had somewhat plateaued.

About another two hours after calling them, having been sitting outside the room we had set up for the baby on a chair from the kitchen table, I was getting both nervous and restless; a combination of emotions that didn't look particularly good on me. I knew I wasn't going to make it through the entire ordeal without someone to make sure that I did not implode.

When Papa arrived, I was both grateful and worried at the fact that he also brought Uncle Nadir along with Aunt Adele. Of course they deserved to be there; Uncle Nadir especially, considering he and Papa practically raised me together. Though I had to admit that I was worried, considering everything that he had been through on the topic of childbirth; I wouldn't want him to have to relive those memories from the sounds of Lara echoing through the house.

"Thank you for coming so quickly," I told them as I sprinted down the stairs. "I think things have finally started progressing after being at a stalemate for the longest time."

"Of course we came. You didn't think you were going to go through a day like today without being surrounded by family, did you?" Adele asked as she gave me a tight hug. She then turned and gave a knowing look to Nadir and Papa and I caught on quickly; she was figuring out my heartbeat. A sneaky move; I was both offended and impressed at the same time.

"Gustave, I promise that things are going to be alright," Papa began.

"No matter what happens today," Uncle Nadir finished.

It seemed that it was almost a cue; Lara let out another cry, so I instinctively checked my watch and saw that she was down another minute between contractions. I was about to run back upstairs when I felt a hand grab my arm and pull me out onto the porch. Given the strength of the pull, I had initially thought it was either Papa or Uncle, but I was impressed with the fact that it had actually been Adele.

None of that mattered though; I needed to get back up to my wife. My heart was pounding in my ears and I needed to get back outside that door in case she needed me. I was about to go back running, but I hadn't noticed that Adele hadn't let go of my arm yet, so instead of me getting halfway up the stairs, I stayed in my spot and felt a pop near my shoulder blade.

"We cannot know what is going to happen," Papa said as he grabbed both my shoulders to keep me from running back into the house. "One thing we do know, though, is that your wife needs you to be strong enough for the two of you right now."

I swear that I had heard home, though in the moment, it mostly sounded like a jumble of words. I needed to get back to Lara and know what was happening.

"Yes, Papa. I'm alright, Papa. Now I need you to let me inside," I said as I made an attempt to shake free from his grasp but he responded by tightening his grip until I let out a small cry of pain. I knew that he had done it intentionally to make sure I was focusing, but unfortunately, I already had my focus set elsewhere.

"I will let you in if you promise me that you're going to be okay. You passing out while you're upstairs with Lara will not be good for anyone," he said.

I was finally able to shake free properly when he realized that holding me wasn't going to help anything, but my father was no idiot; he merely gave Nadir a look, and the next thing I knew, he was standing in between me and the door. "You're being ridiculous, Papa. I need to go back in."

"I'm not being ridiculous. I know you, Gustave. You practically passed out just now, you're as white as a ghost, and you could hardly take a proper breath. I want to make sure you're okay first."

"And I said I was. Now please move." I had to admit that I was getting quite annoyed, which was giving way to me being very short with him.

"Stop this nonsense. You are not okay, now stop acting like it." He was being firm with me in a way that he only ever was when it was very important. I suppose he was just as annoyed with me as I was with him. It was annoying at times how similar we truly were. "You will stay here until you can breathe like a normal human being, not one who has just finished running a marathon."

"I just don't want to leave her alone. I want to get back to her in case something is wrong. I can't afford to be out here if that's the case." My mind was running a mile a minute with all the possibilities of what could be happening inside during the time it took for our conversation to happen and none of them were helping my apparent state.

I was receiving no sympathy, though; Papa simply folded his arms and said, "Well, then you had better get yourself under control."

I knew my father well enough to know that he wasn't going to move an inch on his stance; the only way I was going to get back to Lara was if I got my breathing under control. I tried to think of things that calmed me down and the only thing that came to my mind was her smile; her laughter; the way her eyes looked like they were always trying to solve a never-ending puzzle. She never failed to be the best thing that ever happened to me.

Once I was breathing normally, I looked to Papa and said, "Okay, Papa. I'm okay now, really. I promise."

Before responding, he looked at both Adele and Nadir and they all shared a knowing expression. With that, Uncle Nadir moved out of the way and Papa finally spoke again: "Alright. Now go."

That was all I needed to hear.

_**ERIK** _

As I watched my son run up the stairs like a schoolboy late to class, I couldn't help but let out a deep sigh while we walked back into the house. "If he survives this ordeal without a heart attack, I will be truly amazed," I pointed out.

"On that, we can agree. I am simply glad he stopped hyperventilating," Adele said as she took off her shoes.

"I wouldn't let him come back inside until he did," I explained as I thought back to his expression at the ultimatum I had given to him. "He's stubborn as the day is long."

It was at that moment that I expected a remark from Nadir. I had practically set it up perfectly for him. Though, to my surprise, there was nothing; he simply finished taking off his shoes and went to go sit in the living room without so much as a word. That was all the evidence I needed to know that something was most definitely wrong. I knew him and, given the situation, I knew exactly what was the matter, though I didn't think I was the person he needed at the moment. So instead of trying to face this problem with him myself I leaned over to Adele and said, "I think he needs you."

"Yes, I'm beginning to think so as well." With that, she walked over to her husband and sat down with him, then took his hand before asking him: "Nadir, are you alright, love?"

The fact that he was a terrible liar truly came to light when he quietly uttered the word, "Yes." I seriously didn't believe that even Gustave would have taken that seriously in his younger years.

"I know you aren't. What's running through your mind?" Adele asked him as she turned his face towards hers.

"A lot of really bad memories," he admitted.

"Like what? Darling, I can't help you if I don't know what you're thinking about. And you know I want to help you."

"The last time I was sitting in a room waiting for this miracle to happen, it was one of the best and worst days of my life all wrapped into one." With his reply came the confirmation I needed to put together the fact that I had been right about his feelings on the entire situation.

Adele put her head on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him before responding: "Rookheya. Of course. I'm sorry, I should have remembered."

"It's not your fault. Don't apologize." He squeezed her hand a little tighter, I noticed, his action evident by his white knuckles.

"It's alright, Nadir. You are going to be fine and so is everyone else. Lara included. Everything is going to be okay, you don't need to worry," I knew that she was trying very hard to make sure that he wasn't focusing on the possibility that we were all aware of but there are some things that you simply cannot ignore.

"I know it's irrational for me to be worried. It's not my baby and it's not my wife. It's just a lot of memories being stirred up by this whole situation." I couldn't blame him for being involuntarily reminiscent; the circumstances were rather similar. "I don't know what I'd do if Gustave has to go through what I did. He doesn't deserve that type of pain."

"If it came to it - which it won't - he would have plenty of support, you know that. It's not going to end that way, though, and you'll be able to hold their baby and see Lara very soon, okay?" Adele said. She was making excellent points, but they all seemed to be leaning on the hypothetical, and I knew that Nadir was thinking the exact same thing. "But I'm sorry you're thinking of those events, love; I know how difficult it was."

Nadir just sighed with a sense of defeat and put his face in his hands. "I just don't know if I could be there for him in the way he'd need me," he said quietly.

I knew it broke Adele's heart to hear that, but it did the same to my own as well. I knew how important it had been for him to get the opportunity to raise Gustave with me and to be there for him whenever and however he could. The prospect of him not being able to help had to have been terrifying for him.

"You would be, Nadir. You always have been, and in a situation like that, you would be the best person to support him out of the three of us," I said. I simply couldn't stay silent any longer; he needed to know that I was there for him too.

He lifted his head to look back at me and ask a question that I, surprisingly, already had an answer for: "I barely knew what I was doing. How am I supposed to help him?"

"You lived through it, my friend, as tragic as it is. You understand that scenario and you would be able to give him some sort of guidance. But you won't have to because that is not how this is going to end today," I replied. I took that chance to get up from where I had been sitting, go over to them both and sit on the other side of Nadir in an attempt to physically show my support.

"You're not going to have to do it alone either," Adele said as she placed her hand back on his shoulder and looped her arm through his.

"No, you aren't," I added, trying to jump on her point. "Your wife and I are right here and we're going to stay here."

"I promise, I'm not going anywhere," Adele said as a final addition.

Nadir looked over towards his wife and kissed the top of her head before saying, "Please don't. I need you here right now."

"Always and forever," was her response as she interlocked their fingers.

The door opened and I could see who was coming in: Marguerite and Philippe. I concluded that Gustave must have called them at the same time he had called me, except it, naturally, took them more time to arrive. I was thankful that they hadn't seen Gustave in his previous state; I didn't believe Marguerite would have let it go as sheer anxiety as easily as we had.

"Good morning. I would advise that you two settle in - by the sounds of things, we're going to be here for a while," I said.

**~**

_**GUSTAVE** _

When I had gotten back upstairs, I had been dragged into the room by the assistant of the midwife; apparently, Lara had been asking for me. I had been in the room for about two hours after that, holding her hand as she pushed. Her screams not only tore through my eardrums but through my heart as well. I thought I had seen her in pain before, but seeing her in the midst of her labour was like nothing else.

We were in between pushes when she turned to face me, beads of sweat and tears rolling down her face as she panted through her words to say, "I can't do this, Gustave. I just can't."

"Yes, you can, love. I promise you can. Just keep your eyes on me," I said as I squeezed her hand and kissed her forehead.

"You two are lucky to have each other," said the midwife from her spot on a stool, her assistant next to her holding a towel. "Now Lara, I just need another big push from you, okay? You can do this, we're so close."

Lara kept her eyes on me just as I had suggested and she held my hand in a grip that I swore was going to destroy my hand. She let out her loudest scream yet as she pushed, but after what felt like an eternity, we were greeted with the cries of a baby rather than the cries of my wife.

"You see, you made it," the midwife said as she wrapped the baby in a towel and stood up. I could only see the little one's face but I was already completely in love. "Congratulations to you both. It's a healthy baby girl."

I looked back over at Lara just in time to see her close her eyes and go limp. My heart stopped beating as I looked at her. What I thought was happening couldn't possibly be happening.

"Lara?" I asked, but her face stayed perfectly calm as a tear from the pain rolled down her cheek. 

"She put her body through something absolutely traumatizing just now and has been for hours. She's alright, just give her a few minutes," the midwife explained as she wiped down my daughter's face with a warm towel.

I stepped away from Lara at that to go and see the midwife, who was holding our baby and getting ready to cut the umbilical cord. Once that was done, she took her over to the changing table we had set up and put her into a diaper before wrapping her up in a warm blanket, then gently passing her to me.

She was so small that it almost felt like I wasn't holding anything. I couldn't help but begin crying myself; the joy of holding her in my arms for the first time was just overwhelming. I went to sit next to Lara so that we could both be there when she woke up.

Though it wasn't long before that moment of calmness ended and she began to cry. I tried to calm her down, but to no avail; no matter what I did, she just kept crying. I could feel my own heartbeat starting to race again with every passing moment. What if I could never get her to calm down? What if I had to do everything on my own? How was I meant to be a father to a baby girl when I couldn't even get her to stop crying in my arms?

The midwife must have seen me struggling, as she tried to get me to relax a bit: "You've done nothing wrong at all. She just wants to be with her mother right now, she'll be alright in a moment."

"But what can I do to try and calm her down?" I asked, desperate to be able to do something right.

"You can try to hold her to your chest and rub her back, but there isn't much to be done at the moment," she explained, probably realizing that I was willing to do just about anything. "She wants to hear her mother's heartbeat; Lara is the only person she knows as of now. Everyone else is a stranger to her, you included."

I tried to ignore the unintended sting of her remark of my baby being seeing me as a stranger. I very carefully repositioned the baby on my chest, though she wasn't making it easier given how much she was moving around. "Like this?" I asked.

"You've almost got it. You've just got to raise her a little higher so that her breathing isn't obstructed." I moved her up ever so slightly and the midwife came over and adjusted my hands until they were in the right position. Once that was handled, I began following her instructions and my daughter's crying seemed to calm down a little.

"She's going to come around to me eventually, right?" I asked.

The midwife was helping her assistant pack her supplies as she replied to me: "She will. Just give her time."

After a few moments, Lara began to stir and I let go of a breath that I had been holding the entire time she had had her eyes closed.

"Where is she?!" she asked frantically, which I assumed was caused by the fact that our daughter was still crying.

"She's right here, love, it's okay," I said as I took the baby from my chest and carefully handed her over to Lara. When she was holding her, I could not have imagined a more perfect picture.

Lara began to cry what I could only imagine were tears of joy as she looked down at our daughter's beautiful face. "Hello, my baby girl. I'm so glad to finally meet you. It's alright now, I'm here. Your mother is here, and so is your father. He loves you very much. Just like I do," she said softly.

I stood up a little bit and kissed her forehead before telling her, "I told you that you could do it, love. Now she's finally here."

"We did this together. And now look. She's so perfect," Lara said as she pressed a kiss to our baby's forehead.

"She is, isn't she? Absolutely beautiful," I replied.

I could not imagine how tired Lara must have been but regardless, she began to bounce the baby a little bit in her arms and, to my surprise, what resembled a smile crossed her little face.

Lara's own smile could not have been wider when she looked up at me and said some of the happiest words I had ever heard in my life:

"We have our little girl."

**~**

_**ERIK** _

It had become a rather tense situation waiting for someone to come downstairs and update us all. I had taken it upon myself to pick up a book off of one of the shelves and start reading as a way to keep my mind distracted from the obvious anxiety that came along with the situation.

After a while, the screams had stopped and we all knew what that meant, though there was an unspoken agreement that we would all wait until we were called upon before going upstairs.

It had been roughly a half-hour after the quiet began before Gustave came rushing downstairs like a madman and exclaimed to everyone, "Lara is okay, and we have a baby girl!"

We all cheered and hugged him and I could tell that we were all relieved to hear that Lara was alright more than anything else; in fact, I saw Nadir physically relax as he heard those words. Though we all wanted to see the new member of our family, we hadn't wanted to overwhelm Lara or the baby, so we agreed to let Marguerite and Philippe go up first so they could see their daughter and make sure she was alright at the same time as they met their granddaughter.

They came back down about an hour later and explained that they had to leave in order to prepare things for family that were to be staying with them. With that, however, it meant it was our turn to go and meet her.

As we walked up the stairs, I couldn't help but notice the way Nadir was holding onto Adele's hand for dear life. He knew that Lara was fine, but seeing was different than hearing and I knew that once he saw her, he would go back to normal. Regardless, though, he still sent his wife through the door first once we got up to the second floor.

"Come on. Everyone's okay," she whispered after taking a look inside. Those words resulted in an audible sigh from Nadir which nobody could blame him for. "I told you she would be," Adele added.

"I know. Just seeing that actually come true is an immense relief," Nadir replied, another quiet sigh slipping out of him.

"I know, dear, I know," she said as she took his hand once more and led us into the room.

While I went to go check on Gustave and give him another hug, Nadir went straight over to the new mother.

"How are you, Lara? How are you feeling?" he asked.

"I'm alright, Nadir, I swear. I'm just very tired," Lara explained, giving him a reassuring smile. I realized that either Gustave had told her about his uncle's state, or she could see the anxiety painted on his face. "Would you like to hold her?"

"Yes, yes of course," he replied as he sat down in the chair that was by her bedside. Lara then carefully handed the little bundle wrapped in a pink blanket over to Nadir, but it didn't seem to calm him much; his back went straight as a line and his arms were as stiff as those of an automaton as he held her to his chest.

"You know that she isn't going to break," Lara said with a laugh.

"I know. She's hardly an hour old, though. I know how delicate they are at this point," Nadir replied. He definitely came from a place of experience; he had held his own child just after his birth, so he already knew more than I did.

"I know and I appreciate your caution," Lara said, still laughing a little at how tight his posture was. "Just try to relax a little bit. My mother always said that if you're tense, the baby will be too."

"Yes, I can speak to the truth of that as well," Nadir said, and with that, he took a deep breath and relaxed himself a little bit more. It was then that Adele made her way over to her husband and looked at the baby from over his shoulder.

"Hello, little one," she said, a smile on her face.

Nadir then looked over at her, which was the first time he had taken his eyes off the baby since she had been handed to him. "She's a sweet little girl, isn't she?" he asked.

"She's perfect."

"Yes, she certainly is," Nadir affirmed, looking over to Lara, who was simply beaming as she looked at the two of them with her baby. "That's the exact word I would use to describe her."

"Now, what's her name?" I asked, knowing that we all had to be curious as to what she was to be called.

"Oh, no, no," my son started with a cocky grin on his face. "If you want to know her name, you have to hold her."

"Let me consider how badly I wish to know her name," I retorted. It wasn't that I didn't want to hold her; I was simply terrified of doing it. The last time I had held a newborn baby was when I had met Jane's son for the first time, and that was almost two years ago.

Nadir then gave me a sigh of exasperation before essentially snapping back at me: "Erik, stop being a prick and hold the baby."

"Alright, fine. I'm pushing my nerves aside, let me see her," I conceded, knowing that Lara would have gotten up and dragged me by the ear herself despite how tired she looked.

Nadir and I swapped places on the chair beside Lara and he placed her in my arms. My friend smiled as he looked down at me before making a comment that made me feel a sense of warmth flood my chest: "There's your granddaughter, my friend."

I returned his smile and then proceeded to glance over to my son who was grinning ear to ear. "I've met your conditions, my stubborn boy," I said to him, returning my gaze to the baby and not taking my eyes off of her; her soft blue eyes were wide and seemed to be exploring my face. "Now, please tell me what her name is."

"We're naming her after one of the most important women in my life," Gustave began and then looked over to his wife, who I assumed was meant to finish the statement.

"Erik, meet little Christine Destler," Lara said.

I felt my heart stop and my eyes grow as wide as saucers. I couldn't have heard them correctly; it just wasn't possible.

"Could you please repeat that?" I requested.

Gustave snickered at me before saying, "You heard what she said. I know you did."

"His hearing isn't what it used to be. You might have to repeat yourself," Nadir decided to chime in.

"Don't make me wish to use profanity in front of the baby," I snapped back without missing a beat.

"You're both exhausting," Lara said looking between the two of us, only to focus her attention on me as she asked, "Well, aren't you going to say hello to Christine?"

I felt the tears welling up in my eyes as I heard the confirmation I needed. I knew there was only one way to greet her, and so, as I looked down at her beautifully perfect little face, I whispered something I didn't think I would ever be able to say again: "Hello, my little angel."

Gustave and I shared a knowing look since we both knew that I had not called anyone that in years; I thought I had even seen tears welling up in his eyes.

After a while of me holding her, Gustave came over and asked to take her, but I held her away with a laugh as I said something that was only partially a joke: "Oh, no, no, I'm keeping her."

* * *

I had wanted the new parents to be able to get at least one night's sleep before their true parental duties began, so I offered to stay the night and told them that I would check on the baby during the night if needed. Initially, they protested on the grounds that it meant I would get no sleep, but I assured them that it was no trouble. My winning argument had been that they had both been through a lot that day - Lara especially - and they needed the sleep more than I did.

Just as predicted, Christine woke up in the middle of the night. Lara had made me promise that if I could not get her back to sleep, I would wake her. As soon as I had heard her start to cry, I had left the guest room and quietly stepped into the master bedroom, stepped over to her bassinet and picked her up - an anxiety-inducing action in itself - in order to try and get her to calm down. 

I sat down on the chair in the corner of the room and held her to my chest, gently rubbing her back as I hushed her. I wasn't sure how best to calm her down, but I figured that talking to her couldn't hurt.

"Hello, Christine. It is alright, no need for tears. I am here for you," I whispered. The sound of my voice seemed to have been working, as her little cries had quieted down, so I continued: "Would you like to know who you're named after? She was your Papa's mother; she was one of the strongest people I had ever met. She had the biggest heart in such a mean world and that is what made her strong when everyone else thought it made her weak. She was beautiful too, just like you are; she had brown curly hair, just like your Papa, and the most wonderful smile. It was the kind of smile that could make anyone feel better when they were upset. She had a gorgeous voice as well, like an angel, which is what I call you. People from all around the world came to hear her sing and it made her happy because it made other people happy. That is something I cannot wait to share with you; music is a powerful thing that has the ability to bring people together and make them happy."

Christine had stopped fussing, simply cooing quietly every now and then, but she still wasn't asleep yet. I decided that perhaps walking around would help her fall back to sleep, so I carefully got up from the chair and began slowly walking around the room. She didn't seem tired though; she was simply looking over at me with her eyes wide and full of wonder. I knew in my head that she couldn't understand me but something in my heart felt that she could, so I decided to keep going.

"You know, it's my fault she isn't here to share this moment with me. Me and my big mouth. My grand plans for our life. I wanted to pluck an angel from heaven and claim her for my own. But God gets angry when you try to steal an angel, and eventually, he'll want to take her back. But before she left, she gave me your Papa - the light of my life. He became my world, my reason for waking up in the morning. And he is going to love you forever. He is a strong man who will protect you and your _maman_ with all he has in him, just as I tried - and failed - to do with your grandmother. Your Papa is _mio soldatino_ which means 'little soldier', so I know that you are going to be safe. Your _maman_ is strong too," I said with a soft laugh, thinking about the number of times Lara had had to put both me and Gustave in our place. "After all, she can put up with your Papa and me. She is truly a warrior, though; your _maman_ went through quite a lot to bring you into the world and it has only made her stronger. But I know that with their strength combined and wrapped up in your little heart, you will be strong enough to move mountains. And I will love seeing every second of it, my little angel."

She had closed her eyes again, but I knew better from the stories from my friends that that did not mean that I could put her back in the bassinet. So instead, I sat back in the chair and held her to my chest. Gustave sat up in bed a moment later, undoubtedly to check on her after a bout of late-night anxiety, but I waved him off. I knew that I had things under control and I did not want to risk her waking up as a result of another person trying to comfort her.

Though I had to admit to ulterior motive when it came to both my having offered to stay as well as shooing away her father; I simply wanted as much time with her as I could possibly get. To have this baby - my granddaughter - asleep on my chest, her round little face aglow in the light of the moon through the window, the rise and fall of her chest on top of mine and her little heart beating against my own, was a feeling of security and peace, a type of comfort and complete bliss I had felt only once before. It had been with Christine herself when I was holding her as she slept with her head on my chest while I savoured my last moments with her. I hadn't known that feeling since that night so long ago, and now to have it with the little baby that I held, so small and fragile, relying on me for protection at that moment, was one of the most perfect feelings I had ever known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re not dead! I know an update has been a LONG time coming - my co-author and I are in university and college respectively, so life is quite busy - but it is finally here and the wait was (hopefully >.<) worth it! Thank you so much for your patience, and enjoy this update!


	33. A Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> erik gives a gift to gustave, lara, and little christine, and philippe realizes how much of a gift marguerite is.

**_MAY 1922_ **

**_ERIK_ **

It had been a few days since Christine's arrival, which had given Lara time to rest and to start navigating her duties as a new mother. I had made an effort to visit as much as possible, quickly learning to forego wearing suit jackets because they would just be spit up on at one point or another and changing more diapers than I ever had in my life. Nevertheless, I fell more and more in love with my granddaughter with every moment that I spent with her, although she seemed to have that effect on everyone. 

Once Lara was back on her feet, Jane was able to throw the baby shower that she had been planning for a few months. I hadn't been invited explicitly, but I had a gift to give the new parents anyhow, so I figured I would join them and help where I could. 

Adele and Nadir had joined me to go over to Gustave and Lara's home before the party, and Jane was the one to open the door and greet us, her son, William, in her arms. 

"Hello, you three. Thank you all for coming over; your help is much appreciated," she said with a warm smile. 

"Of course. We're happy to," I said, taking William from her when he reached out to me. "And hello to you too, young man." 

"Hi," William replied, quickly starting to fiddle with the buttons of my shirt. "I get to stay for the party." 

"You do? Well, that will be very nice. I'm sure you'll have lots of fun," I said as I slipped off my shoes and stepped into the sitting room, smiling when I found it decorated with streamers and flowers. "And your Mama has made the house look so beautiful, hasn't she?" 

William nodded, gesturing to one particular streamer string low on the bookshelf. "I did that one." 

"And it looks very nice. The best of them all, I must say." 

"Thank you," William said with a giggle. "Papa doesn't get to come." 

I couldn't help but chuckle at the fact that the boy seemed amused by his father's exclusion. "I'm sure he'll find something to keep him busy at home," I said, turning my head and smiling when Gustave came downstairs with Christine cradled in his arms. "Well, look who's here, William. Shall we go say hello to Christine?" 

"Yes! I see baby," William said eagerly, clapping his little hands together as he expressed his opinion quite clearly, whether his grammar was proper or not. 

"Alright, alright," I replied as I walked over to my son and pressed a kiss to his temple. "Hello to you too, Gustave." 

"Yes, hello. I'm still getting used to being chopped liver when my daughter is around," he said with a chuckle, smiling at William as he gazed intently at the baby. "You like her, don't you, bud?" 

William nodded, finally peeling his eyes away from Christine to look up at her father. "I hold her, Uncle Gustave?" 

Gustave smiled and turned to Jane, who nodded from where she stood in the kitchen doorway. "Of course. As long as Uncle Erik helps," he replied, kissing William's round little cheek. 

A delighted squeal was the boy's response as I took a seat on the sofa, then folded my arms under his so Gustave could let him hold the baby. 

"Be very gentle and quiet, alright?" I said as my son gently set Christine in William's waiting arms. "She's a delicate little girl, we have to be very careful." 

"Okay," he replied, his voice noticeably softer than before as he looked down at Christine, his blue eyes meeting hers. "Hi baby." 

"I'm sure she'll be saying hello back to you in no time," Gustave said with a smile as he knelt down in front of us. "But look at her; she hasn't taken her eyes of off you, Will. I'll bet that means she loves you." 

The boy immediately looked up at Gustave. "Really?" he asked before he turned to me. "Uncle Erik, Christine loves me!" 

"Of course she does. There is no way she couldn't," I replied with a smile. 

I looked up a moment later when the front door opened and Marguerite, along with quite a few other women that I assumed were aunts and cousins of Lara's. "Good afternoon," I said to them, letting Gustave take Christine back before setting William on his feet and then stood up myself. "I just came to help set up a bit, I'll be out of your hair in a moment." 

"Yes, I'm sure you'll want to be. All we'll be doing is talking about pregnancy and babies and opening gifts. Nothing a man would be interested in," Marguerite replied, laughing along with her family. 

I forced a small smile, though I hardly understood her point; if I had been a father to a new baby, I would want to soak up any information I could get. 

"And why is that?" I inquired. "Should a father not know those sorts of things?" 

"He is to support the child, not actively raise it. He would have no need for those sorts of details," Marguerite said simply, shooting me a tight-lipped smile before she stepped away with the other women to set down their gifts. 

I stifled any desire to reply to that remark and simply let them start getting ready for the party while I stepped out of the room, heading upstairs to check on Lara, who had been told to stay up there until the party was ready. I had never understood the feeling that a father should have no role in the rearing of their child; they played a role in creating the child, why shouldn't they help? Not to mention the fact that the mother already did so much, so to me, it only made sense that the father would assist her. Still, I didn't want to ruin the day with my commentary, so I bit my tongue. 

I pushed those thoughts aside once I reached the master bedroom, knocking softly and waiting for a moment for the door to open, then gave Lara a smile once I saw her.

"Hello, dear. How are you doing?" I asked as she gave me a hug. "You look lovely." 

"Oh, I'm doing well. And thank you; Jane insisted that I dress up a little bit," Lara replied as she stepped over to her vanity and sat down. "Gustave bought this dress for me not long before I found out I was pregnant with Christine, so I didn't actually get a chance to wear it until now." 

"Well, he has good taste in dresses for a man, I'm impressed," I said with a laugh. "Your mother and who I presume are aunts and cousins arrived a moment ago, by the way, so you won't be a prisoner up here much longer." 

"Fantastic. Thank you, Erik." 

I noticed then that she was having a bit of trouble with braiding her hair, so I took it upon myself to step over and stand behind her so I could offer my assistance with the task. 

"I suppose I've fallen out of practice with doing my hair. I've only had it in a low ponytail or down altogether these last few months; I haven't had the energy for more intricate styles," she said as she gave me a smile as silent thanks, I assumed, before starting to put in her earrings. "I'll get back to doing braids soon enough." 

"Well, I'm happy to help for now. I've had plenty of practice with Lizzie over the years," I said, rather proud of how quickly I managed to put together a braid that draped down Lara's back. It had ended up more intricate than I had originally intended, but I figured that a few extra details wouldn't kill anyone. "There you are. Now you just have to wait a while longer to be permitted to join us downstairs. Christine is doing just fine, by the way; William has been fawning over her. I even helped him to hold her and he was thrilled." 

Lara turned to me with a smile as she got to her feet again. "How precious. He's such a sweet little boy. I'm so glad Jane has him in her life." 

"As am I. All things considered, she has made a beautiful life for herself. I know that William is the light of her life for more than one reason, and Alistair definitely seems to be treating her well, although I suppose you would know more about that than I do." 

"You would be right, their marriage has been smooth. It's had its bumps, as every marriage does, but Alistair takes care of her," Lara said with a nod. "Things must be going well at the moment, though; Jane is expecting again." 

I smiled right away, hardly even realizing that I was doing it; Jane was like a daughter to me and I had been by her side when she had lost William in the war, so to hear that she was to have another child to call her own warmed my heart. 

"That's wonderful. I will pass on my congratulations and ensure she doesn't get upset with you for telling me," I said, laughing to myself.

I turned my head to the door then, hearing much more laughter from downstairs than I had a moment ago. "By the sounds of things, your friends and Maddie are here. I'll go down to say hello and someone will be up in a moment to fetch you for the party." 

"Thank goodness. I've spent enough time up here over the past few days," Lara chuckled, pressing a kiss to my cheek. "Oh, does the statement to stay out of the nursery still stand? I really want to see it." 

"It does still stand, and you will see it later today. I intend to make my grand reveal today after the party," I said with a smile. "Patience, my dear." 

"Alright, alright. I'll wait," Lara replied. "Thank you, Erik." 

I nodded and gave her a smile before I made my way back downstairs, greeting Natasha and Peggy as I went and stopping to chat with Maddie and Lizzie for a moment before joining Jane in the kitchen again. "So I heard about the baby," I said, glancing at her and laughing when I saw her surprised expression. "Yes, Lara told me. Don't be mad, I will keep the secret." 

"I know you will, I just didn't realize how you'd heard," Jane said with a laugh, setting her hand on her stomach. "But thank you, Alistair and I are very excited. William doesn't know just yet; we're waiting until we tell everyone else so he doesn't tell them first." 

"That's definitely a good idea. Little ones don't have the best filter," I nodded. "But if I recall correctly, all of your guests are here, so go fetch Lara; she's all dressed and ready to come down." 

"Wonderful. Thank you." 

I watched her step out of the room, smiling when she walked past the door towards the stairs a moment later, hand-in-hand with William. I then stepped into the dining room adjacent to the kitchen and smiled at Nadir and Gustave when I found them already seated there. "And so our confinement to the kitchen begins," I joked as I walked over to sit with them. 

"It does, yes. We had some company when Madeleine and Lizzie arrived and popped in to say hello, but now they've joined the party, as has Adele, so we are indeed on our own to keep ourselves busy," Nadir replied as he opened the newspaper that had been sitting on the table. "It shouldn't be too long. They'll have their finger foods and open the gifts and then it'll be over." 

"Then I'll get to go through and organize the gifts when you all leave," Gustave said, laughing and running his fingers through his hair. "So many little dresses to fold."

"Get used to that; you will be folding little clothes and putting away little shoes for a while," Nadir chuckled. 

I simply gave my son a smile as I sat down at the table and took the newspaper from Nadir while the pair talked. I was remarkably less informed about life with an infant than my friend, so I let him take the reins when it came to advising Gustave. It never failed to make me a tad discouraged; one decision so many years ago barred me from advising my son about settling into his new role as a father. That was my private guilt to cope with, though; so long as he was still getting the guidance he needed while I helped in other ways, I was content. 

The three of us did manage to occupy ourselves, between making conversation and playing a game of cards after Gustave had gone to get a deck for us to use. The ladies seemed to be enjoying themselves as well if the laughter and frequent 'awws' from the living room were anything to go by. 

After a while, though, we heard Christine start to cry, so Gustave set his cards down and got to his feet. "I'll be back," he said before he walked briskly out of the kitchen to the sitting room. 

"Look at him, bouncing off to be a good father," Nadir said with a smile as he collected our cards to shuffle them again. "Let's just hope she's not crying because she's hungry; Gustave won't be of much help if that's the case." 

I laughed quietly at the comment and turned to my friend as he dealt my hand of cards, only looking back to the door when Gustave walked back in, bouncing a still-whining Christine in his arms. I quickly noticed that his mood had shifted, however; the smile on his face that was always present when he held his daughter was nowhere to be found, which was enough to tell me that something had happened in the short time he had been gone. 

"Are you alright?" I inquired, watching him closely for any other visual cues. 

"Yes, I'm fine," Gustave replied quietly, keeping his eyes on his daughter as he shifted to prop her on his shoulder and rub her back. 

"No, you're not," I said frankly, just wanting to get the truth out of him. 

He sighed, staying quiet for another moment as he hushed his daughter. "It's nothing, Papa, really. I'm probably just overthinking things, being too sensitive or something of that nature." 

Another attempt to brush it off. "What happened in there, Gustave?" I asked. 

"Just backhanded remarks from Lara's family. It's fine, I'm...I'm sort of used to it by now," he finally admitted. 

"What did they say?" I inquired, my irritation with the noblewoman in the other room growing steadily. "I couldn't help but recall the insensitive comments they had made at Gustave and Lara's wedding, as well as the ones Marguerite had made to me earlier that same day. They had no grasp on what comments they should not have been making or on the feelings of others, and if given the opportunity, I could set them straight in a moment. 

Finally, Gustave revealed what had been said to him, which only served to increase my frustration: "They called me 'the help' when I went in to get Christine from Lara." 

I set my jaw firmly when I heard him and noticed Nadir straighten up before he got to his feet. "I have to fetch my wife before she hurts someone," he said before he stepped out of the kitchen. A wise decision; I wouldn't have put it past Adele to throttle someone for directing that comment at Gustave. 

"That's it. In your own home, that's unacceptable," I said as I stood up with every intention of going into the other room to confront those women. I had bitten my tongue too many times, but when it came to insulting my son and his right to be a hands-on father, I had to put my foot down. 

"No, Papa, don't. It's fine, just...just leave it," Gustave said quietly, walking over and setting his hand on my arm. 

I looked at him in disbelief and noticed he was avoiding my eyes, which gave away the fact that the comment had stung more than he was letting on. "No, it is not fine," I retorted. "It couldn't be further from fine, Gustave." 

"I knew I was bound to get comments from them, what with the class difference between me and Lara. I've just come to terms with it," he explained. 

"You shouldn't have to, my boy. They are judging you and your right to be a good father to your daughter based on an archaic system that has absolutely no merit," I replied. 

"I know they are, but it's who they are. They aren't going to stop." 

I scoffed. "They will after about five minutes with me." 

At that, the two of us turned as Nadir joined us in the kitchen again, pulling his noticeably peeved wife by the hand. "Adele, you cannot say anything. There is a time and place and it is not right now," he said quietly, a noticeable firmness in his voice. That was a tone I didn't normally hear him take with her, but with the look on her face, he needed to use it. 

"They cannot be allowed to make comments like that, they just can't," Adele retorted. 

"And no one should be allowed to make racist comments to me either, but that is how people are, my love. Classism is no different," Nadir replied with an expression of what could only be called exhaustion on his face. 

Gustave sighed as he watched Adele shake her head and push away from her husband to walk over to the table, sitting down and rubbing her temples with her fingers. The relationship between her and my son had changed over the years; though Gustave still wasn't incredibly close to her just yet, they had grown to be friends and he knew she cared about him, so I imagined seeing her so frustrated on his behalf wasn't something he wanted to happen. 

"Papa, don't go in there, please," he said as his attention returned to me. 

I still wasn't ready to back down, even with his repeated requests for me to do just that. "Gustave, I have endured comments about everything imaginable over the course of my life. I will not have you go through the same thing if I can help it," I replied. 

"So you're just going to march in there right now and tell them all off? During the shower? With Lara there?" he questioned. "Is that really something you want her to see?" 

"If it means defending you, maybe. She needs to know that I am willing to stick up for the love that you two have for each other and for your right to be a father to your child. I won't sit back and let you be ridiculed like this." 

"But do you _really_ want her to see that side of you? Something that you've kept even from me for the majority of my life?" 

I sighed, the truth in that statement sticking out to me. My temper had never been something I was proud of, and once I had become a father, I had made an effort to smother it; I almost never raised my voice to Gustave, the few instances occurring in his later teenage and early adult years when he could yell right back, and I had certainly never done so in front of Lara, nor did I want to start. 

"Gustave, I just don't want you to have to deal with the same sort of thing that I did; I don't want you or Lara to be subjected to those sorts of comments. You've worked so hard to get to where you are, and now you have your little one. You shouldn't have to put up with that," I said softly, taking a step closer to him and gently resting my hand on my granddaughter's back. 

"Sometimes the best revenge is showing them that their comments don't phase you," Gustave replied, shooting me a smile that I could tell was meant to reassure me. 

"I know, I know," I said with a sigh. "I just want the best for you, you know that. For you, your wife, and your baby." 

"And I appreciate that, but bursting in there and confronting them won't do any good." 

"Which I am aware of. I just wish I could stop it. You don't deserve that." 

Gustave gave me another smile and set his hand over mine where it still rested on Christine's back. "I've just accepted that some things and some people cannot be changed," he said. 

"And I'm sure I will come to terms with that where you are concerned too," I replied, pressing a kiss to his temple. "Just stay in here with us for now. Don't go back out there and let them say any more horrible things to you." 

He chuckled at that. "Well, it's a baby shower. It's not like we would have been in our element out there in the first place," he pointed out. 

"Very true. We are quite out of place here," I said. "Alas, we must pass the time, so to do that, may I see my grandchild?" 

"Yes, of course," Gustave replied before carefully settling Christine in my arms. "There's Nonno, my darling." 

My new title still made me smile whenever I heard it and that was exactly what I did as I looked down at my granddaughter, finding her wide blue eyes gazing back up at me. 

"Hello, my angel," I said, moving her blanket away from her face before I leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. "Your _maman_ picked a very pretty outfit for you today, didn't she?" 

"Actually, I will have you know that I picked it out for her," Gustave said with a proud smile. 

"Oh, did you?" I asked, laughing quietly at the look on his face. "Well, pardon me, then. Well done, my boy." 

Gustave laughed along with me and gave me a hug from the side, then stepped over to the table and sat down with Adele and Nadir, hopefully to reassure the former that all is well. Taking advantage of the fact that no one was actively paying attention, I walked to the doorway of the kitchen to listen in to the party, purely out of curiosity. I was none too pleased when I heard the women still chatting about how amusing it apparently was that Gustave helped with the baby, but just as my frustration started bubbling up again, I realized that someone was already holding down the fort. 

"Well, it is his baby too; I would expect him to help," Maddie piped up, bouncing Lizzie on her lap as she spoke. "If that's what you're referring to, of course, but I see no reason why he shouldn't be able to help care for his baby." 

"A father shouldn't be expected to help; that is far from his area of knowledge and expertise," a woman, whom I presumed was one of Philippe's sisters going off of her looks, replied. "And if the baby ever got to be too much for me, I would just pass it on to the nanny. There are people that you can pray to deal with that rather than forcing it on your husband." 

"Given that he helped create the child, I wouldn't call it 'forcing' him to do anything," Maddie said, her voice cool and calm, which told me that she was trying not to snap at the woman. "But that aside, imagine how much closer you would be with your children if you spent time with them yourself and didn't refer to them as 'it'." 

And with that, she stopped; satisfied with her response and the shocked look on the other woman's face, Maddie turned back to Lara and smiled, then told her to keep opening her gifts. I looked at her slightly slack-jawed, though that turned into a smile when she glanced at me and gave me a wink. She never failed to amaze me with how much fire she kept wrapped up in her tiny little body. 

"That is your Auntie Maddie, Christine and she can always handle herself. She's strong like your _maman_ ," I whispered to Christine as I walked back over to the table. "But let's go see your other strong auntie, shall we?" 

Adele glanced up and smiled as I sat next to her, then leaned over to kiss Christine's forehead. "Hello, sweetheart," she said softly, brushing the baby's cheek with her fingers. Even as she cooed at my granddaughter, though, I could tell that she was still upset about what had happened in the sitting room; she was fidgeting with the skirt of her dress with her free hand and was noticeably quieter than normal. I knew that if I could tell she was off, Nadir had noticed even before me, and it seemed we were on the same page in terms of trying to find a way to cheer her up. 

Nadir decided to take the first stab at it: "You know, Marguerite acts all high and mighty in moments like this, but little does she probably know that her husband used to be very fond of a ballerina at the Opera. If they hadn't been intended to one another, he likely would have married that Parisian girl." 

"Which one of my girls?" Adele asked, already perking up slightly at the mention of the ballerinas at the Populaire. 

"Oh, I remember her," I said, the comments starting to jog my memory. "Sorelli, wasn't it? I always liked her best out of all of the ballerinas, besides Christine, of course. Her and her little dagger tucked in her garter." 

"Wait, really?" Gustave asked.

Nadir laughed quietly at the baffled look on his face. "Yes, really. La Sorelli was not a young lady that peopled toyed around with; she was sort of like the older sister to all of the other ballerinas. She did have a soft spot for Philippe, though, and him for her. I would say they truly loved each other," he said. 

"She scared me, honestly," I admitted. 

"Which says a lot, but whether she frightened you or not, that certainly wasn't the effect she had on Philippe. In my observations around the Opera House, trying to keep a certain Phantom in check, I..stumbled upon some things I wish I hadn't." 

I noticed Adele cringe. "I don't particularly want to hear this," she said unsurprisingly; those girls had been like her daughters, so hearing about their intimate lives had to be uncomfortable. I knew that well enough after my own awkward experiences with Gustave. 

"Sorry, love. I'm just being honest," Nadir said with a laugh. 

"I think I'd rather go back in there than hear this," Adele replied. 

"And I'm not letting you do that, so we'll move on," Nadir said. "But I don't think Marguerite realizes that. It's no wonder Philippe is so accepting and has no problem with Gustave and the fact that his social status differs from his own; he was almost in the same position all those years ago." 

I nodded, more memories of the Comte's relationship with the ballerina starting to return to me. "I do remember him being quite taken with her." 

"I'm sure you noticed some of the little gestures he did for her that I didn't see," Nadir said. 

"Oh, of course," I replied. "The flowers after every performance, waiting in the wings to kiss her cheek as soon as she stepped off stage." 

Finally, Adele laughed. "I do recall having to swat him out of my way on more than one occasion," she said. 

"You put the fear of God in that man once upon a time," I said with a chuckle. 

"I put the fear of God in _everyone_ once upon a time," Adele said to correct me, quirking her brow and silently daring me to argue. 

I nodded, raising one hand in surrender while keeping Christine nestled in the crook of my opposite arm. "Indeed you did. Still, he never learned; he tried to stay around at the Opera House and steal her away during rehearsals whenever he could." 

"I remember you scolding him," Nadir said with a chuckle. "It was hilarious; it didn't matter that he was a patron paying your paycheck." 

"No, no it did not," Adele replied. "He was distracting one of the lead ballerinas from rehearsals, I had no time for their flirtation. I didn't want angry managers about refunds and peeved letters from our resident Opera Ghost over lacklustre dances thanks to him pulling her away." 

"That was much appreciated," I said. "But you really were ruthless." 

Once again, she raised her brow as she looked at me. "I don't appreciate your use of the past tense." 

"Forgive me; you _are_ ruthless, Madame, when you wish to be," I said with a hesitant smile, hoping the apology would suffice. 

There was a pause before she finally nodded. "That's more like it." 

"Okay, all of that aside, do you really think Marguerite has no idea?" Gustave inquired. 

"I would wager a good deal that he never told her," I said with a nod. 

"It likely wouldn't go well if he did, which is probably why he kept it to himself," Nadir pointed out. "Plus, I would imagine it's a bit of a sore subject if he was as in love with her as it seemed he was." 

I nodded before deciding to try and bring the conversation back to the true topic: "The moral of this, I think, is to try not to let their comments get to you if you can, Gustave. We're all on your side, you have your wife, and you know Philippe is behind you, even if he doesn't say it out loud." 

"I suppose it is comforting to know," Gustave replied, giving me a smile. 

"We know it's hard, but we're here for you. Maddie as well; you should have heard her defend you a moment ago," I added. "So you're not alone. That's my point." 

"Thank you, all of you. I intend to thank Maddie when this is done as well." 

"I imagine she would appreciate it very much." 

* * *

The party ended within the hour, leaving the new parents along with myself, Nadir and Adele, Maddie and Lizzie, as well as Marguerite, who had stayed behind to help clean up and organize the gifts they had received. While she cleaned the last few dishes, I decided to finally give my own gift to my son and daughter-in-law. 

"Well, I think I've made you two wait and barred you from your daughter's nursery for long enough, so why don't we go upstairs and I can give you my gift?" I suggested with a smile over at Gustave. 

"Oh, yes, let's go. I've been so curious about what you've been working on," Lara said, getting to her feet "Everyone can come with us to see it, can't they?" 

"If they want to, of course," I replied as I stood up, laughing when everyone got up along with me. "I have a feeling they're coming." 

"What told you that?" Gustave queried with a chuckle. 

I shrugged my shoulders teasingly. "Just a hunch." 

Leading everyone upstairs, I stopped outside the nursery and smiled. "Hopefully, this will explain why you haven't been allowed in here," I said as I opened the door and let Gustave and Lara inside first, laughing quietly when I heard their simultaneous gasps. 

A completely furnished and decorated nursery awaited them; the walls had been painted a neutral cream colour, having been done without knowing the baby's gender; I had painted a small forest scene - flowers, a tree, and woodland creatures included - on one wall and stars, the moon, and a colourful night sky on the ceiling; a wooden rocking chair sat in the corner with a knitted white blanket tossed over the arm; and the bassinet, dressed in lace, sat just beneath the window and had a mobile I had made myself hanging above it, music notes dangling just above the cradle. With all of the rooms and buildings I had designed, the nursery we stood in was by far one of the creations I was proudest of. 

"It may have taken every minute that you two were out of the house, but it's finally done," I said, smiling as Lizzie ran over to inspect the toys sitting on the bookshelf I had made. "I do hope you like it." 

"Oh, it's so beautiful. Thank you, Erik," Lara replied as she gave me a tight hug before she went back to looking around the room. 

"Of course," I said as I gave Gustave a hug, careful not to crush Christine before I leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. I thought it was the perfect gift for _mio soldatino,_ my warrior, and my little angel." 

I glanced down then when I felt a tug on my trousers and found Lizzie looking up at me. "Can you put me on your shoulders so I can see the pretty painting on the ceiling, Uncle Erik?" she asked. 

"Of course I can," I said, scooping her up and ducking my head to lift her onto my shoulders, then looked up at the painting. "I must say that I'm happy with how this came out. Well worth all of the hard work and...little incidents. 

"What do you mean?" Gustave asked. "It doesn't seem like there were any incidents in here." 

"Oh, you have no idea..." 

~ 

_I stepped off of my footstool and took a deep breath, setting my palette and paintbrush down so I could stretch out my arm. I looked up at the mural of stars above my head, the splotches of blue and purple as eye-catching as I'd hoped they would be. Things seemed to be going well thus far, so I could only hope things continued that way._

_As I stepped back onto the footstool to start my work on painting the moon, I heard the door open and glanced over my shoulder to see Nadir step in._

_"How-" he began, only to stop and sigh when I hushed him as I carefully painted the circle for the moon. "May I speak now?"_

_"Now that I've successfully painted a circle, yes, you may," I said as I started to fill in the circle with white paint. "What brings you by, Daroga?"_

_"Well, I took the day off from work, and Adele went out for lunch with Maddie, Jane, and Lara, so I had nothing to do at home," Nadir explained. "I knew you'd be here, so I thought I'd join you."_

_I nodded, setting my palette down again as I finished painting the moon. "Company would be nice. I've just been occupying myself with my own humming," I said, squeezing out some fresh paint onto the palette, only to sigh when I realized I had used up all of the blue and white paint in the tubes I had purchased._

_"You are being quite casual today, aren't you?" Nadir asked. "Making your own music instead of listening to a record, a plain shirt and slacks rather than a button-down and trousers. Who are you and what have you done with my friend?"_

_"Okay, are you here to pester me or-" I began as I turned to face him, only to stop when he covered his mouth with his hand to muffle a laugh. "What is it?"_

_"Just go look in the mirror," he replied, laughing through his words._

_I frowned at that, but followed his instructions and walked over to the dresser in the room, looking in the mirror over it and sighing when I saw my reflection; my mask had gotten splattered with blue and purple paint, as had a bit of the unmasked side of my face and my shirt._

_"Gives it some flair, don't you think?" I asked._

_"It does, yes. You should have done this sooner," Nadir chuckled._

_I shook my head, laughing to myself. "I should have taken it off earlier," I said as I slipped my mask off to set it aside. "I just wanted to get started as soon as possible. I don't know how much time I have left to do this, so I didn't think this through all the way."_

_"As per usual."_

_"Okay, if you're not going to be useful, why are you here?" I asked as I turned around to face him again._

_"Well, can I be of service in any way?" he replied. "Give me a task to help you get this done."_

_"You can make sure that I'm not disturbed and that Lara and Gustave don't come home and try to peek in here."_

_Nadir raised a brow. "So...a security guard," he said flatly._

_"Give it whatever title you wish, but that is your task. I have to get back to work with these stars, then move onto the trees and flowers and- what have I gotten myself into?" I wondered aloud, running my fingers through my hair._

_It was then that an idea for another task to give to my friend crossed my mind: "On second thought, you can do something besides that for me; go pick up some more paint, please. Take the tubes I've finished for reference."_

_"You don't trust me to pick it out for myself?" Nadir asked with a frown._

_"No, no I don't," I replied. "I need these colours to be right."_

_"I'm offended you think so little of me, Erik."_

_I laughed at his mock offence. "You know I tease, Nadir. Now go and get these paints before I run out," I replied as I gently shoved him towards the door._

_"Alright, alright. No need to panic," Nadir said._

_"I have to panic! For all I know, this baby could come tonight and I am nowhere near ready."_

_"You'll find a way, my friend. You always do."_

~

"Well, you certainly did a brilliant job," Maddie said with a smile. "Now, I'm so sorry to have to go, but we're going out to visit my parents in the country. With my mother's health, we want to go and help my father when we can." 

"Don't apologize, that's alright," Lara replied as she gave Maddie a hug. "Do you know how long you'll be gone?" 

"No, we're not sure. We'll probably be away for some time, though; either until she gets better or passes away, unfortunately," Maddie sighed, turning to take Lizzie from my arms and set her on her feet. "And if that happens, we would extend our stay to support my father." 

Lara nodded. "Of course. Give your mother and father our love. Perhaps you can write to us if you can." 

As the pair talked, I crouched down to Lizzie's level and gave her a smile. "So you're going to see your grandma and grandpa for a while, hm?" I asked. "That ought to be nice." 

Lizzie nodded as she stepped forward to wrap her arms around me. "But I'm going to miss you," she said softly. 

"oh, I'll miss you too, dear," I replied, giving her a gentle squeeze before I leaned back to look at her, only to sigh when I saw tears in her eyes. "Don't cry, it's okay. You'll have fun with your grandparents, and you can write me letters if you'd like. Mommy or Daddy can help and you can put your lovely drawings in the envelope too. we'll see each other soon, don't you worry." 

"Okay. I love you, Uncle Erik," she said with a small smile. 

"I love you too, princess." I kissed her cheek and gave her another tight hug before standing up and doing the same for Maddie. "Travel safe, alright? I hope all goes well with your mother, but do keep us up to date."

"Yes, of course," Maddie replied, taking Lizzie's hand and stepping to the door. "We will see you soon, everyone." 

I smiled at her and gave Lizzie a wave as we all said our goodbyes, then turned to glance around the room with a sense of contentment now that I knew Lara and Gustave were happy with it. I hoped Christine would be too, but that revelation would come in due time. 

As I scanned the room, I set my sights on the mobile above the bassinet and realized that I had forgotten something. "I almost forgot to show you the final touch," I said as I stepped over to the bassinet and wound up the mobile, smiling as it played a piano rendition of the song I had heard Christine sing to Gustave on Coney Island so many years ago. 

"It's beautiful, Erik," Lara said, smiling as we both turned to Gustave when we heard him already humming along with the music while rocking his daughter in his arms. 

"We'll let you two get her down for a nap," I whispered, stepping out of the nursery with Nadir and Adele following my lead. 

"So you're back to making little music box sort of things, are you?" Nadir inquired. "I thought you said you'd forgotten how." 

I laughed quietly, remembering the excuse I'd given for why I no longer crafted trinkets like the one I had once made for Reza. "I forgot how to make the clapping mechanism. A mobile like that wasn't too much trouble," I explained. 

"Well, the room is beautiful, Erik," Adele said, shooting Marguerite a very forced smile as she walked past us to go upstairs. "You did a wonderful job. I'm sure Christine will love it as she grows up." 

"I certainly hope so," I replied as I sat down in the sitting room. "Let's play another round of cards to pass the time, shall we?" 

We quickly decided to do just that and got through two games - both of which were won by Adele - before Gustave and Lara rejoined us. "Christine is asleep and Marguerite is organizing some gifts, so we have some time to chat," my son said with a smile. "And I have something we can discuss because Lara, Nadir told me an interesting story about your father earlier." 

“Oh really? What was it?” Lara asked as she took a seat on the sofa. I could tell she was nervous; as soon as Gustave had mentioned a story about her father, she had tensed up. 

"He was mentioning that he was quite head over heels for one of the ballerinas at the Opera House," Gustave replied. 

Lara's brows creased when she heard him. "You're joking." 

"No, apparently he was quite taken." 

"That's...unbelievable. He's never said a word about her? What was her name? What was she like?" Lara inquired. She was clearly invested in the story all of a sudden; her series of questions had begun. 

"Her name was Sorelli. All three of them - Papa, Uncle Nadir, and Adele, that is - remember their romance in great detail. One of them even went as far as to say that he might have considered marrying her," Gustave explained. 

Lara's frown had returned; her range of emotions at that moment was interesting to see. "But that's impossible. If he'd done that, he would have had to give up his title and everything he had. He was already intended for my mother." 

"That was the extent of their love; he was ready to do just that," I said, deciding to add my two cents to the conversation. "In the end, though, he realized that it just wasn't possible for the two of them." 

With a sigh, Lara shook her head slightly, no doubt trying to process what she was hearing of a secret woman from her father's past. "I'm sorry, I'm finding this all very hard to believe," she admitted. 

"Understandably, but their relationship went on for a while. They were very much in love from what all of us could tell," Nadir said. 

Once again, the room fell silent, all of us waiting for Lara to speak again. "It does make me wonder, though," she eventually said. "If he regrets it. Leaving her to marry my mother." 

"While it might be a bit of a sore subject, we can tell that he truly does love your mother, Lara. He shares two beautiful children with her, their love is plainly seen," I said in hopes of reassuring her. I didn't want her thinking Philippe regretted starting his family with Marguerite just because of an old flame from his younger days. 

"Truly? If he was as in love as you are making him out to have been?" she asked. 

"I still don't believe he regrets the decision to agree to marry your mother, even if they were arranged and he was in love with Sorelli before he met Marguerite. He made the decision and has given no indication that he wishes he hadn't made the choice that he did." 

"I suppose you have a point." 

Nadir reached over then to set a hand over hers. "Your mother does mean a lot to him, Lara. That's something that you have to understand." 

"Sometimes I forget how arranged their marriage truly was, especially when I hear he got to fall in love the traditional way before her," Lara said. 

"Arranged, perhaps, but it has worked for years and it is a loving marriage. Not many people in that situation are quite so fortunate," Adele pointed out. 

"I suppose you're right," Lara replied, giving her a small smile. "I'm just going to go fetch a glass of water. I'll be just a moment." 

I watched as she stepped out of the room, then sighed and leaned over to retrieve my own drink. "Perhaps we should have kept that to ourselves and let Philippe tell her," I said. 

Before anyone could even reply, the front door opened and the man of the hour looked in at us. "Is it safe to come in? Are all my sisters gone?" Philippe asked, his voice hushed, no doubt as a precaution in case the answer wasn't the one he had hoped for. 

"Yes, they're gone. They left about half an hour ago," I said, laughing quietly when the Comte sighed out of relief. 

"Oh, good. I won't get their lipstick all over my face or get bombarded with all their questions about being a grandfather again," he replied as he stepped into the house and leaned down to untie his shoes. 

"You're safe, don't worry." 

Just as Philippe straightened up again, he frowned slightly when he saw Lara making a beeline for him. "Are you sure?" he asked, a quiet grunt escaping him as his daughter rushed into his arms. "Be careful, dear, you've only just had a baby. You shouldn't be rushing about." 

“Why did you never tell me about Sorelli?” Lara asked, ignoring her father's concern in favour of getting the answers she wanted. 

Philippe frowned immediately. "Wh- how did you find out about that?" 

"To find the guilty party, look no further than right here," I piped up as I immediately pointed to Nadir, eager to have fun by exposing my friend. 

"I forgot you were always around the Opera House," Philippe said, his eyes narrowed as he looked at Nadir, though his smirk revealed he wasn't truly angry. 

"We all were - myself, Nadir and Adele, that is. I was just a bit more well-hidden," I replied. 

"Yes, you did have that mastered, _Monsieur le Fantôme_ ," the Comte said, his comment making the both of us chuckle. 

His attention then returned to his daughter as she prodded his shoulder. "Father, you didn't answer my question! Why did you never say anything?" she inquired once again. 

"Because it was never something that needed to be mentioned," her father replied simply. 

"But...it sounds like you truly loved her. I would have liked to have heard that story from you," Lara said softly. 

Philippe sighed as he led his daughter to join us in the sitting room again. "I did love her very much, but she and I had to come to an agreement that our lives were just too far apart. For the longest time, there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think about what happened to her.”

"Do you still think about that? About her?" 

“Sometimes she crosses my mind. After the incident at the Opera House, I was worried about what would happen to her. For the longest time, I had no idea what had happened, but I decided to look and see if I could dig up any information," Philippe explained as a far more solemn expression crossed his face. "From what I found, it seemed like she stayed in Paris, but was never able to find work again; many of the ballerinas couldn’t. In order to survive, she must have turned to some unsavoury means of employment. But there was one newspaper clipping that I found; it turns out that she had been found in the Seine.”

I couldn't help but sigh at that, a tad upset at hearing that such a strong young woman had gone to those lengths. The gasp from Adele quickly got my attention, though, and I turned to see a heartbroken look on her face as Nadir wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. I couldn't only imagine that hearing that about a girl she had cared so much for would sting, even if it had happened some time ago. 

“My heart shattered that day knowing that I could have done something for her. I could have chosen her instead of your mother and she might still be alive," Philippe continued quietly. "She had meant the world to me and I left her there without even realizing it. She was a shining light when I thought that I had no idea where my life was going. I used to call her my sun in private because of the closeness her name had to the word in my heart. She will always own a piece of my heart and I know that, but we agreed that it would be best to go our separate ways because our lives were taking us in different directions. She had her dream of becoming a star and I would never have interfered with that, while I had Marguerite and my family waiting for me. That said, she always has been and always will be one of the greatest things that have ever happened to me.”

The Comte had a fond smile on his face, but when he looked up, that smile immediately faded away. Following his gaze, I realized why - Marguerite stood on the other side of the room, wearing an expression of both anger and heartbreak. 

"Marguerite-" he started to say. 

"So I never have been enough for you," the Comtesse said abruptly. "You would have chosen a little ballerina over someone you could build a life with." 

"But I did choose you. I wouldn't trade the life we have for anything," Philippe replied. 

Marguerite simply scoffed. “By the sounds of it, you wish you had chosen this Sorelli and kept that whirlwind romance you had. I know I was chosen for you, Philippe; you had gotten a chance to choose her, fall in love with her first. You had to marry me and fall for me after, which is nowhere near the same thing.”

“Please don't twist my words. I was saying that I wish I could have tried to protect her more. I left her alone with nowhere to go after I left and I didn’t even try to help. Yes, our story may be different, but that doesn’t make it any less real.”

"You said she still owns a piece of your heart; that shouldn’t be true if you ever were and ever have been committed to what we have - or what I thought we had," Marguerite retorted, having walked across the room to stand toe-to-toe with her husband. "I always worried about not being enough for you - the Comte de Chagny - and it turns out I was right. I’ve always been right.”

"Marguerite, you always have been and always will be more than enough for me. I have always been committed to what we have; I left Paris because I was committed to what we have and what our future held," Philippe said, almost pleading with his wife to understand. "You will always be the one I choose, but I cannot deny what Sorelli contributed to making me into the person I am. She owns that piece of my heart because, as a young man in Paris, I gave it to her myself. I will not ignore that fact, but regardless of how much of my heart she has, you will always have my soul.”

As his wife shook her head and took a few steps back, the Comte reached out to take her hand, only for her to pull away. "Not now, Philippe. For once, your abilities to romance a woman won't get you anywhere." 

"Marguerite, please," he said, and I could see the tears he was trying to hide as he watched his wife, who had her sights set on the front door. 

"No, Philippe, I just...I can't do this right now," Marguerite replied as she held up her hand to stop him from following her. "You know how to get through a situation with your words and I need time to myself to think about everything, to consider if that's what this is." 

"Please don't go. If you are, at least tell me where you're going." 

"I'm going home, Philippe. If you're going to come as well, I expect you to take what you need and sleeping in the same bed as you won't give me that." 

And with that, she was gone, leaving us all in silence, our eyes all locked on Philippe, who stood stunned in the middle of the room. "What have I done?" he finally said, his voice far quieter and shakier than I had ever heard it before. 

"Father, I...I shouldn't have pressed for answers. I shouldn't have brought it up, I'm sorry. I didn't know that Mother had no idea," Lara said softly as she stepped over to her father and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his chest. 

"It's not your fault. I shouldn't have gone into such detail, I should have told your mother earlier. I've made a lot of mistakes," Philippe replied, resting his chin atop his daughter's head. 

"Having a pst is not a mistake, Father. Having loved someone is not a mistake," Lara said. "I probably have her to thank for the fact that you allowed me to marry the love of my life." 

Philippe sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, his exasperation making it obvious that the disagreement with his wife was holding his focus far more than his daughter's words. "Perhaps you do, but now look. Your mother’s furious with me and won’t even let me share her bed. I’ve made an enormous mess because I don't know how to shut my mouth.”

“Philippe, as someone whose mouth has gotten him into more problems than necessary, I can confidently say that you are going to be okay. Just give her some time to process all of this,” I said, wanting to try my hand at offering some advice to him. 

"I just hate that I've given her anything to process at all," he said. "I've hurt her and that's something I never want to do." 

"I'm sure she'll realize that herself, but perhaps giving her tonight to cool off is a wise idea," Nadir added. 

"I know that, yes, and I'm going to give her that, as much as I want to fix this right now." 

Gustave got up and walked over to his father-in-law, setting a hand on his shoulder. "See if she's willing to talk in the morning. You're more than welcome to stay here," he said. 

"I appreciate that, Gustave. I'll just have to get something to sleep in for tonight, which means I'll have to go home anyway," Philippe said with a sigh. 

"Don't worry, it will work itself out. I just know it," Lara replied as she stood on the tips of her toes to kiss his cheek. 

"I certainly hope so," her father said, giving her a small smile. "Now, could I go see my granddaughter? I need a bit of a distraction." 

"If you go up now, Lara can show you the nursery that I designed and decorated," I said with a smile. "And the baby, of course." 

Lara nodded, tugging her father towards the stairs. "Come on, let's go take your mind off of things." 

Once they were out of earshot, I sighed and leaned back in my chair. "Let's hope this blows over soon. Marguerite makes life dramatic enough as it is." 

* * *

**_PHILIPPE_ **

I sat at the table in my daughter's kitchen after a night of restless sleep, fidgeting with my necktie aimlessly. I planned to go home to try to talk to Marguerite, but the thought of her not wanting to see me was practically crippling. We had bickered and argued in the past, but nothing that could truly be called a fight until the one we had had the day before over Sorelli. I could only hope that she would understand just how much she meant to me, whether I had once loved Sorelli or not. 

I turned then and gave Lara a small smile when she came to stand next to me and rested her hand on my shoulder. "Just take it slow, Father. If she feels she needs to say something, just let her," she advised. 

"I know, I know. We've been over this about a million times, but I must admit, I am still terrified," I replied with a sigh. 

"Don't be. It's Mother, it's going to be fine." 

I managed to laugh quietly at that statement. "That doesn't make it any less terrifying," I said. "I don't want to say the wrong thing and have her never speak to me again." 

"And that isn't going to happen. You two are going to work this out, and I'm sure she is missing you just as much as you are missing her," Lara replied. 

"I think that might be the only leg I have to stand on," I sighed as I stood up to set my breakfast dishes in the sink. 

"It'll be okay, Father. It was probably just a bit of a shock factor that made her react so strongly. Now that she’s had time to think over all that you said to her after the fact, she’ll realize how much you love her, even if you did love Sorelli in the past." 

“I never wanted to hurt her. That’s why I never told her; we had been set up and I didn’t want her to feel like she was a second-place option, but it looks like I missed that plan up royally.”

I felt Lara's hand on my shoulder then and let her turn me around so she could hug me tightly. "It's going to be fine, Father, I know it. I know how much you love her, and I also know how much you mean to her. This will work out," she said softly. 

"Thank you. I hope you know as well that I would never trade this life for anything. You and your brother are my greatest joys," I replied, holding her close to my chest. I had never spoken truer words; my children were my everything and I would give anything to make sure both of them had anything and everything they could ever want or need. 

"I do know that, don't worry," Lara said, smiling up at me. "André and I love you very much." 

"What would I do without you, baby girl?" 

"I pose the same question to you." 

I smiled as I pulled away from our embrace, adjusting my tie yet again. "I should probably stop stalling and go talk to your mother. I've been fixing my tie for the past ten minutes," I said. 

"I've been trying to think of a good way to tell you," my daughter replied, laughing quietly as she straightened my tie and pushed my hands away. 

"You should have just told me straight. That tends to be what gets me moving better than anything," I pointed out. 

"Yes, yes, now go. I know you can do this." 

"I certainly hope so. I'll see you soon, my dear." 

With that, I kissed her forehead and walked to the front hall where I ran through everything I wanted to say while I slipped on my shoes. _An apology, of course,_ I thought. _An explanation for why I never told her could be good, as would trying to help her see that I love her even with Sorelli in my life before, then-"_

As I opened the front door, my train of thought quickly drove off the rails when I found my wife on the porch, her hand raised in preparation to knock. "M-Marguerite?" I managed to make myself say, even though I knew I probably sounded completely dumbfounded. 

"Hello," she said. I noticed she wasn't quite meeting my eyes, which was enough to tell me that her mood had shifted drastically from the day before. 

"What are you doing here?" I inquired. "I was just about to make my way home to try and speak to you." 

"And I had come here to do the same," she replied. 

"Well, that worked in our favour, then." 

"I suppose it did." 

We stood in silence for a moment. Marguerite still hadn't met my eyes and I was fidgeting with my fingers, but I finally bit the bullet and spoke: "I'm sorry about what happened yesterday, Marguerite, I truly am. I never wanted to hurt you, you know that's never my intention or goal. I just can't deny the life that I've lived in the past, but that doesn't mean that I prefer it to the one I am living now."

"My reaction to you was unfair as well. We both had other lives before we got married and I should have realized that. I was just overwhelmed by it all," my wife replied, finally looking up to meet my eyes. 

"I know, I understand," I said with a nod. "It was a lot to hear all at once, and in all honesty, I shouldn't have said all that I did. I'm sorry about that." 

"And I should have let you explain yourself without getting angry." 

"You were upset. I understand why you weren't willing to hear me out." 

Marguerite laughed quietly. "I think we're going in circles," she said. 

"Yes, I think we are," I replied, a small smile on my face. "I just don't want to say anything else that's going to push you further away. I don't know if I could bear that." 

"Then why don't we stop being afraid of pushing each other away and just be together?" Marguerite suggested, returning my hesitant smile even as tears welled up in her eyes. 

That sight alone was enough to make my heart ache, so I stepped forward to pull her close. "I would want nothing more," I said softly, cupping her cheek in my hand as I leaned down to kiss her gently. It was that alone - the feeling of her lips pressed to mine and of having her so close to me - that made me realize that I had everything I would ever need right there in my arms. Arranged or not, I adored the woman that I got to call my wife and I wouldn't trade her for anything in the world. 

We pulled apart a moment later but stayed in each other's arms, Marguerite's head tucked comfortably in the crook of my neck. "I missed you beside me last night," I whispered. 

I felt her nod. "The bed was on the colder side," she said, her voice hushed just as mine was. 

"I definitely do not enjoy having to sleep on my own. It's not something I'm used to anymore," I replied. 

"Then I say we remedy that situation tonight," Marguerite suggested as she looked up at me. 

"That sounds like a perfect idea." 

I smiled as she gave me another quick kiss, and I took her by the hand as I pulled away. "Why don't we step inside for a while instead of standing out here on the front step?" I proposed. 

"I'd like that," she said with a nod. 

"Wonderful." 

As the two of us stepped inside, fingers interlocked, we found Lara practically jumping up and down when she saw us. "Well, hello," I said, laughing quietly when she simply hurried over to hug me. "You seem happy." 

"You would be correct," she replied. 

"Well, I'm glad. Now, your mother needs a hug too, baby girl, not just me," I said as I kissed the top of her head. 

"I was getting to her." 

"Get to me faster, then," Marguerite said with a laugh. 

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Lara said, giggling as she huffed her mother, then looked over at me. "So you two have made up? You won't have to sleep in the guest room, but not really sleeping because of Christine waking up so much?" 

I simply waved her off. "We made up, yes, but don't worry about Christine; she's a baby, it's alright. It's been a long time since I was woken up like that." 

"Which is why I assumed you weren't happy about it," she replied. 

"I will admit that it wasn't my first choice."

"I would imagine not. But as much as we enjoyed having you here, I"m sure you'll be glad to go home with Mother tonight." 

I nodded, smiling over at my wife before leaning over to give her a quick kiss. "As am I." 

"I think we're all glad about that. We talked and determined how much we missed each other, so he will definitely be coming home with me tonight," Marguerite said. 

"I couldn't be happier for you both," Lara said with a smile. 

"Yes, we're quite pleased ourselves," I replied as I pulled my wife and daughter - the two women who mattered the most to me and who could only be described as gifts - into my arms to hold them close. 


	34. Accidental Unveiling (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> philippe brings back figures from the past and makes things messy for the entire family.

_**JANUARY 1923**  
_

**_ERIK_ **

I was standing in my bedroom, adjusting my hairpiece in the mirror. It was a new look that I would definitely have to adjust to overtime, but it wasn't completely terrible; I could get used to seeing a full head of grey whenever I looked at myself.

The door opened a moment later, interrupting my moment of preening and adjusting my appearance, and I saw my son and daughter-in-law accompanied by Nadir.

"Who are you and what have you done with my Papa?" Gustave demanded, making a hesitant gun out of his hand like when he played as a child. However, his comment seemingly was not all that entertaining to his wife, as it was swiftly followed by the sound of the back of Lara's hand making contact with his arm.

"Be nice," she chided.

"Oh, you know it's me," I pointed out as I turned away from the mirror to look at them.

Gustave rubbed his arm and looked back to his wife to defend himself: "See? He knows I do it all in good fun."

"I would hope you are. This is a big adjustment for me too, you know; I've been used to looking at dark hair all my life and now it's gone," I replied, looking back to the mirror and making sure the wig was straight for the millionth time.

"At least you can go back to it if you want," my friend pointed out as he ran his hand over his own full head of silver hair. "You aren't stuck with the grey like I am."

"I do appreciate that liberty, I will admit. I've come to like the grey, though."

My son took that opportunity to call attention to the obvious: "You two are ridiculous. You know that, right?"

"Yes, we have come to appreciate that fact," Nadir confirmed.

I nodded in agreement, then added, "It is a fun sort of game."

"That it is," Nadir said before making the gesture we had come up with for when my mask was crooked and I needed to fix it; a simple wave of his pointer finger while he held his hand down by his side to keep it inconspicuous.

"Now, if the other married couple could break up this beautiful moment," Lara chimed in with a small giggle, "I could use a hand here with Christine's bags."

I could not help but roll my eyes at a reminder of the running joke about Nadir and me I. Instead of getting too far into it, I looked over to my friend and made sure he wasn't going to say anything before I stated, "We aren't a married couple, although you two try to insist upon it," then grabbed the baby bags that were still in my room after caring for my granddaughter for the day and started to shoo everyone out into the hall.

"Well, you act like one," Gustave said as we made our way down the stairs.

"We don't try to. Now, let me see the little one," Nadir requested as he looked over at Lara, who had just rejoined us after getting Christine from her bassinet, which resided in Gustave's former bedroom.

Lara passed her over, and the moment Christine was in his arms, she reached up at his face and exclaimed "Deer!" at the top of his lungs. I could only imagine it was due to the difficult pronunciation of that name for an eight-month-old baby, but it was still one of the greatest things I had ever heard.

"Yes, my angel! That is Deer!" I told her in between everyone's laughter. I pressed a kiss to the top of her head before looking back at my friend, who appeared to still be processing what granddaughter had just said. "Until one of us dies, that nickname is never going away, Deer."

* * *

We had all congregated in the kitchen after that and sat down while Christine had her breakfast in her high chair, but after a while, the attempt to feed her had both Gustave and Lara in a state of both frustration and worry. She was a wonderful baby, but when it came to the transition from her mother's milk to other foods, she decided to put up quite the fuss. Lara was exasperated and eventually gave in to trying to give her a mashed banana in hopes that the sweetness would compel her to eat.

Nadir and I had been watching from the sidelines, taking a backseat to let the new parents take the lead, but eventually, it came to the point where I saw that Gustave was starting to get anxious over the fact that she wasn't eating, so I decided to step in and make an attempt at it. I took the bowl from my son and tried to make Christine laugh by saying whatever came to mind in a variety of entertaining tones. It seemed to work, and when her mouth was open, I was able to insert a spoonful of food with little protest.

When the bowl was empty, I looked over to my son to find his jaw slack, seemingly in awe of what I was able to accomplish. "What is your secret?" he asked.

"I don't quite know. I never did this with you," I admitted. It was rather shocking to me as well, considering that I had never done that before; I hadn't even fed Lizzie when she was a baby.

Once I had finished wiping off Christine's face, I took her into my arms and she decided that she was fully invested in seeing my mask up close. "Nonno," she cooed at me as she reached towards my face.

I Initially flinched away out of reflex, but when I looked at her face, I knew that I could not say no to her as easily as I could others when it came to my mask, so I resolved to allow her to have her hand resting on it as she felt around my different facial features. I had almost become comfortable with the position when suddenly, I felt a hard pull on the back of my head and heard my mask hit the ground.

I was paralyzed where I stood. I couldn't take my eyes off of my granddaughter out of fear that the similarities to her father would cause her to start crying. It was in those minutes that felt like hours that I ran through every detail of Gustave's face the day he had seen me for the first time and I was realizing very quickly how real the possibility was that I might receive an encore to that nightmare. In my peripheral vision, I saw Lara clamp her hand over her mouth and Nadir jump from his chair. I heard Gustave gasp before I noticed him start to cautiously make his way over to me, as he clearly knew that he might have to take her from me so that I could put my mask back on.

But instead of crying and screaming like I had feared she would, my angel did something that practically brought the room to tears.

She smiled at me.

She began patting the once-covered side of my face, her smile widening as she made small giggling noises. "Nonno," she said again.

The lump in my throat was hard to ignore as I responded to her: "Yes, my beautiful angel. Nonno is right here." I didn't know what else to do, so I simply held her a little tighter than before. She had made her way onto the short list of people who, upon seeing my face, were not afraid, though she was easily my favourite name on it.

* * *

**_PHILIPPE_ **

When we arrived at the house, I could already hear the sounds of muffled laughter, telling me that the others had beaten us there. We would have arrived sooner had it not been for our extra payload in tow. Lara opened the door to her home and Gustave was standing behind her with my granddaughter in his arms, who had already gotten so much bigger than the last time I had seen her. Gustave, on the other hand, looked like he had added five years to his life in the few short months he had been a father.

“I take it you haven’t slept,” I said, unable to withhold some sort of comment.

Gustave let out a small laugh as he readjusted Christine in his arms while Lara and Marguerite left for the kitchen. “What was your first clue? My overall body language or the bags under my eyes that could carry a week's worth of groceries?”

“Welcome to fatherhood. For the first little while, you’re going to realize just how busy a human being can truly be,” I explained as I thought back to when my children were newborns and I had no idea what I had truly been in for.

“Add onto the fact that Christine has yet to sleep properly. The little angel inherited a set of lungs from her father’s side of the family,” Erik added as he came into the foyer from the living room.

I then realized how concerning that statement was. “Does she ever sleep through the night, Gustave?” I inquired.

“Only if we’re lucky,” Gustave replied. “Lara and I have been taking turns. I probably got more sleep when I was in the military, though.”

“Tell me you take more of the night feeds and shifts, if you can call them that.”

“I try to,” he said with a small shrug of his shoulders.

“Well, I can imagine you’re not much help if she’s hungry,” Erik chimed in and the three of us let out quiet laughs; we had to be careful to not disturb the baby.

I noticed that, once again, Gustave was adjusting his hold on his daughter; the poor boy was exhausted and his arms were showing it. “Alright, enough chatter. Let me see the little one; you look like your arms need a break and I would love to see her,” I insisted.

He didn’t have much of a heart to argue as he passed her over to me. I remembered how much of a toll a sleeping baby took on your arms, though I welcomed feeling it again; it had been so long since I had been able to hold a child like that in my arms.

“She’s asleep,” Gustave said. “So she shouldn’t be much trouble for you.”

“Surreal, isn’t it? We’re grandfathers,” I said to Erik as I shifted my weight from side to side in hopes of keeping her asleep. Her little balled fists roamed my chest, almost as if she was seeing me through them.

“I still don't believe it,” Erik responded, looking down at Christine with a smile. “It only seems like it was yesterday when Gustave was a boy running about in the backyard, not a care in the world.”

“And not long ago, Lara was afraid of the dark and would come running to us at the slightest noise from outside,” I added. I could hear my wife and daughter busy in the kitchen laughing and talking and I remembered a time when I only had to listen across the dinner table to hear it.

“If you don’t mind, I am going to need the full story of Lara as a child being afraid of the dark,” Gustave interjected; I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. “She makes fun of me for being afraid of spiders all the time and I need leverage.”

Erik and I looked at each other and let out a small chuckle. “And now they’re parents, just as we are. Terrifying,” I said.

“Oh, certainly. Our years seem to be catching up with us, Philippe.”

“Don't even start with that. The hair shows it on both of us,” I replied pointing back and forth between us.

“Oh, you can’t even tell with your blond hair,” he said, brushing me off. “Look at me! I have a full head of gray now.”

“Fair point, my friend.” I conceded and then I heard a faint tap at the door, making me realize that I had nearly forgotten. “Oh, Lara, we have a surprise for you.”

I heard my daughter laughing as she and her mother came back into the front hall. “You didn’t need to do that. I don't need any surprise gifts, Father,” she explained as I opened the door behind me.

“Well, I guess we can just go home then,” André said as he poked his head in.

Lara immediately jumped up and down and practically tackled her brother to the ground. “Don’t you dare,” she scolded her brother as they hugged. I could tell that she wanted to be much louder than she was but was aware that she had to be mindful of her daughter.

I knew my son, and I knew that he would never admit to how much he had missed the simple act of hugging his sister. They had always been close as children and I knew that the separation of a literal ocean was a lot for them, so it warmed my heart to see how tight he was holding onto her.

It wasn’t long until Lara turned her attention to my other grandchild. Jonathan was looking at everyone with wide eyes as his aunt pulled him into a tight hug and planted a kiss on top of his head. André could undoubtedly see how uncomfortable his boy was, though, and attempted to clarify things.

“That’s Auntie Lara, Jonathan! The one I’ve told you so much about,” he said.

Lara must have realized how intense she was being and let go of him, then crouched down to his level before apologizing: “Oh my, I just realized that you must have no idea who I am. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay,” Jonathan replied. He was a shy boy at the best of times and everything that was happening was probably very overstimulating for him.

“Aren’t you absolutely precious?” Lara said as she tapped his nose.

My daughter then snapped back into her role as hostess and introduced André to everyone who hadn’t already met him: “Oh, André, this is my father-in-law, Erik.”

A visually awkward handshake was as far as they went in terms of greeting. “A pleasure to finally meet you. I heard you scared the life out of my son a few years back,” Erik said, managing a slight laugh. Gustave had clearly told him about the incident involving my son when I permitted the proposal.

“I did, yes. I thought he would die when I walked in on him asking my father for his blessing to marry my little sister,” André explained as he poked his sister in the arm. “I interrogated him myself, but I could tell he was a good guy.”

“Wait, why did I never hear about that?” Lara demanded. She was trying to speak with authority, but that had never been her strong suit when André was involved.

“It doesn’t matter, love. I’ll tell you later,” Gustave pressed a kiss to her cheek before bending down to introduce himself to Jonathan. “Besides, it looks like I passed.”

“You did, yes,” André confirmed. “If you hadn’t, we would not be here to see your little one. Speaking of whom, I want to see my niece!”

“Quite down, she is sleeping,” I chided him. “Wait your turn,” I added as I held her a little tighter to my chest.

“Father, come on. I came all the way from America, let me see her.” It was almost like I had gone back in time and was hearing the voice of the teenage boy of the person that stood before me.

“You waited that long, so you can wait a little longer.”

“Come on, Father. Don't be like that,” Lara added with her arms crossed. She was meant to be on my side, not joining her brother’s.

“I want to hold her! What do you want me to do? Your brother can wait.”

“You live in the same country as her. Let André see her,” Lara said. She sounded so much like her mother at that moment that I was practically obligated to comply.

I carefully made the hand-off to André, and luckily, Christine remained asleep. “Fine, fine. I expect her back later this evening.”

“Good, my turn now. Thank you, Lara. Father always listened to you more,” André claimed and then stuck his tongue out at me just like he did when he was a child. Lucky for him, he was holding the baby or he would have received the same retaliation as when he was a child.

“I ignored you both equally,” I said with a laugh.

“Maybe you say that, but André always knew I was your favourite. You can say you loved us both equally but we know the truth.” Sometimes I didn’t like how well she was able to read everyone in her life so easily; it was almost scary.

“You two still bicker like children,” Charlotte, my daughter-in-law, added. She wasn’t wrong in any sense of the word.

“We always have and we always will,” André said as he leaned over and kissed his wife on her temple.

“Where are my manners? It’s amazing to see you again, Charlotte. Get over here, I missed you,” Lara said as she moved over to her sister-in-law and hugged her tight. Those two truly were like sisters in every sense of the word when they were together, which I could tell made André happy. 

“Yes, it’s good to see you too, Lara. It really has been too long,” Charlotte said as they hugged. “I am sorry we have missed so much.”

“That’s alright. It just means more stories now that you’re here.”

“Come on, Jonathan,” Gustave said as he stood up and lifted my grandson with him. I assumed that he was likely aware of how much his back would hurt tomorrow, but I didn’t think he particularly cared. “Why don't we go to the kitchen and let your parents reunite with Auntie Lara?”

“Okay,” was Jonathan’s simple response as they made their way inside.

“Seems like Gustave is getting used to fatherhood,” André said with a smile as he watched his son and brother-in-law walk away.

“Yes, he loves it. He’s still adjusting a bit to the lack of sleep, but he absolutely adores every other aspect.” I knew that she would never admit to not liking any aspect of motherhood but she looked like she hadn’t slept in days. I was aware of how much she had gone through to get to the moment of finally having her little girl, so I didn’t want to push her.

Charlotte laughed and gave her husband unsavoury looks. “Lucky you. I have some fond memories of when Jonathan was that age.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do. What are some of your stories? Perhaps we’ve run into similar circumstances,” Lara said with a giggle.

“Dear god, I can feel it. I’m about to be humiliated,” André said, pain in his voice. That was the only real downside for him when it came to how close his wife and sister were; there was double the opportunity for him to be mocked.

His wife kissed him on the cheek before patting it gently. “Glad you can see what’s about to happen.”

“Please tell me stories if it means embarrassing him.” Lara never liked to miss out on an opportunity to make fun of her brother.

“Later. Definitely later,” Charlotte confirmed.

“Good. I expect it,” Lara said with a cheeky grin at her brother. André was about to retort when their mother stepped in as she always did.

“Well, if you two are going to bicker, let me see my granddaughter,” Marguerite said.

With a sigh, André handed her over knowing that it was better to simply comply than try to strike up that discussion with his mother. “We aren’t going to bicker,” he proclaimed before flicking Lara’s arm.

Lara started laughing and flicked him back. “My god, America hasn’t changed you in the slightest.”

“You expect me to change? Lara, you’re adorable, really,” André replied mockingly, then made another soft jab at her side. Some things never change and for that I was grateful. Business could harden a man and it always made me smile to know that it hadn't had that effect on him.

“A girl can dream,” Lara sighed.

“All jokes aside, though, your daughter is beautiful. Congratulations,” André said as he looked over to Christine, who was blissfully asleep in her grandmother’s arms.

“Thank you. I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you all. It’s been too long.” Lara went in for another hug from the side of her brother, which he welcomed.

“It really has been. We’ve missed you so much.”

“Well, we missed the wedding,” Charlotte pointed out. Jonathan had still been too small for the trip when Lara had gotten married, so neither of them had been able to come. I knew that Lara understood, but she had always wanted him to be there when she got married, so to not have him or Charlotte there was another level of disappointment entirely that I knew she would never let them know about. “There was no way we would miss meeting your baby as well.”

“I appreciate it. I’m glad you got to be here. I want Christine to at least have met her aunt and uncle,” Lara said with a smile.

“I intend to be a fully corruptive influence, I am warning you now,” André said. His comment earned him a soft punch from his sister and a disapproving look from his wife. “Regardless, hopefully, one day you can come to see us in America. Once she’s older, of course.”

“Perhaps. I would have to talk to Gustave; his memories of America are not the fondest.” Lara looked down at her feet. She and I knew more of what had happened, but she clearly did not want to be completely dismissive of her brother’s offer.

“It could be something to consider, though,” Marguerite chimed in, just as blissfully blind as the rest of them. “You might be able to persuade him, dear.”

Lara looked over to Erik, who had gone almost as still as a statue at the mention of America. It was not an easy topic for him either but he was biting his tongue. “He’s a stubborn man, Mother, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I won’t make him relive those memories, though.”

“Well, if he feels comfortable enough to visit, our door is always open to you three.” I knew that André had picked up on the fact that there was something more that was making that such an awkward subject and I had no doubt that I would be receiving questions later on.

“Thank you. Now, let’s get inside.” I could tell how hard Lara was trying to change the subject when she suggested the change of location. “I’m sure you all must be tired of standing. We should probably see what Jonathan and Gustave are up to.”

André let out a stifled laugh trying to help his sister. “Probably getting into trouble and eating all the biscuits, knowing those two,” he remarked.

“You’ve only met him once outside of today. How could you know that much already?” Lara gave him a quizzical look, since she did not even know the extent of the first interaction between André and Gustave, so I could tell her question was genuine.

“Somehow, I took that away from our one short interaction.” He said that so confidently that one could practically take it as law. It was that part about him that made him so wonderful for business affairs. When he wasn’t being endlessly sarcastic, he could actually be quite convincing. “Am I wrong?”

Lara laughed at him before responding: “Sadly, no.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Lara left at that to go and check on the boys in the kitchen and handle the tea that she and Marguerite hadn’t finished preparing, but it was hard to avoid all the overhanging questions and the awkwardness of the group that was left in the living room.

“Erik, I remember hearing from Gustave that you run your own business,” André finally said in an attempt to start up small talk.

Erik seemed to be awoken from a trance at the sound of his name; his eyes had seemed almost glazed over since the mention of Gustave going to America with Lara and Christine. “I do, yes. It is an architecture firm that I started when Gustave and I arrived in London when he was ten years old.”

“That is interesting. I take it you have a background in the field, then.”

“My own father was an architect by trade as well. Though I never met him, you could say I inherited the trait. I have been told I am quite good.”

“You are leaving out quite a bit of the story again Erik,” Nadir piped up. He had been clutching his wife’s hand as he received awkward stares from André and Charlotte; they had never been introduced before that moment, so it was quite an adjustment for all of them. “Since when did you believe in being modest about such things?”

“How so?” Erik asked.

An exasperated sigh escaped Nadir before he began: “How about the fact that you were brought into Persia as a result of your reputation, redesigned the entire palace and was allowed to redo the entire capital?”

“That is incredible, Erik,” Charlotte noted. She had always been very inquisitive, which was something that made her and Lara get along so well. “There is definitely no reason for you to be so humble about such an accomplishment.”

“I appreciate that. I just didn’t see it as important to mention at the moment,” Erik said as he started fiddling with something in his hands. It was no secret that he did not enjoy the thought of all the attention being on him; he had always been one that enjoyed watching from the sidelines. “Enough about me, though. I would love to know more about you and your family.”

“Well, there isn’t much to tell, in all honesty. I run the business affairs in America on behalf of the family company,” André explained, though I found his explanation to be rather humble as well; without him, we wouldn’t have been able to complete the American project that had grown into the success that it is.

He then looked over to his wife and took her hand. “I met Charlotte within my first year of living in New York and that was it for me. I knew instantly that she was for me and I brought her home to introduce her to the rest of my family as soon as I could. We have been married a few years now, and if you remember, we weren’t able to come to the wedding since we had only just been blessed with Jonathan.”

“I remember that, yes,” Erik said. He seemed to have clammed back up again at the mention of New York. “I imagine it was a difficult decision, seeing as how close you and Lara seem to be.”

“It truly was. But as long as she is happy, I am happy,” André replied.

At that moment, Lara and Gustave returned to the living room; my daughter was holding a full tray of teacups with the teapot, whereas her husband was holding the cookie tin in one hand and holding his nephew against his hip with the other.

“Gustave, stop it,” Lara said as she saw her husband reach into the tin once more as he put it down.

“What did I do?” he asked as he handed the cookie he took over to Jonathan. “They’re here to be eaten, aren’t they?”

“Yes, they are. But by people other than just you.”

“But they’re good!” Gustave pointed out as he swiftly took another for himself and raced over to the empty seat next to his father. If it wasn’t for the giggling Jonathan on his lap, Gustave definitely would have felt her wrath.

Marguerite shook her head at them and their foolish antics. She was still holding Christine, who was blissfully asleep and unaware of how her parents behaved as if they were still teenagers. “You two are supposedly the adults in this house for Christine. And right now, she is the most well-behaved person out of you three.”

Gustave and Lara shared a knowing look and simply laughed. It warmed my heart to know how happy they truly were and I couldn’t agree more with what André had said; they were happy, and by extension, it made everyone around them happier.

“You seem pleased with that revelation,” Erik said as he seemed to be holding back laughter of his own.

I couldn’t help but smile along with him. “That they do.”

* * *

I had thought long and hard about the decision I was about to make and resolved that I was making a necessary choice, so I brought Gustave into the kitchen and handed him a small bag. “I have a late gift for little Christine,” I said, giving him a small smile.

“Oh, Philippe, you didn’t have to,” Gustave said as he opened it slowly. “You and Marguerite have already done so much for Lara and me.”

“It isn’t from me, actually,” I replied.

Gustave then looked at me with a confused expression and I began to doubt my decision to bring all of this upon him. “Well, who is it from then?” he inquired. I could only assume he thought it was a distant aunt or one of my sisters who had not been able to come to the shower.

There was a part of me that knew there would be no sugar coating things, so I thought it was best to be done bluntly: “It’s from Raoul and his wife.”

With barely a moment to process, Gustave stopped what he was doing and handed the bag back to me. “Keep it then.”

“Gustave, I know you and my brother are not on speaking terms, and I understand that position and side with you in this fight.” I truly did side with him; it was just that there was a small part in my soul that could not let go of my little brother. “But...just as a courtesy, would you open the gift? So I can tell him that you at least saw it?”

“Does he deserve that kind of satisfaction?” Gustave’s tone was unwavering and his arms were crossed as he physically stepped away from the bag on the counter.

“In truth, he doesn’t. I have no sympathy for him after what he did to you and Christine, but...I’ve never seen him so broken. Do him this one service, Gustave, that’s all I ask. I don't ask you to keep it or value it or even show it to your daughter. All I ask of you is that you open it,” I said.

Gustave sighed and took a step back towards me and the gift by extension. “I’ll do that for you. I owe him nothing,” he replied.

He opened the bag with a look of distaste on his face that I would not wish upon anyone. Inside was a black box with gold trim; how my brother was able to afford it, I will never know. When Gustave opened the box, a melody began to play and two carved figures emerged. They looked to be dancing; the man was wearing a black suit with gold accents that were similar to those on the box itself, while the woman was wearing a gown that started out pink in the skirt and changed into a deep blue in the bodice. I could immediately tell who was being depicted by the little figurines; it was meant to be Christine and my brother.

The lid of the box was expertly painted with an array of red and gold feathers, which was a reference that I did not completely understand. However, it seemed to have struck a tone with Gustave, as he slammed the box closed and put it on the counter. He then looked back into the bag and saw that there were also two pieces of paper inside. One appeared to be a note, I observed as he pulled it out, while the other was much smaller and looked to be quite a bit older. He quickly scanned through the note and his expression faded into nothing. I could not tell what he was feeling; he seemed to have grown out of his boyish tendency to display everything on his face, much like his mother. He barely let out an audible sound when he put the note on the table next to the box.

I pointed to the letter and very softly asked, “May I?”

“Go ahead. Empty words from a shell of a figure in my life,” he replied, his voice unwavering again as he pushed the letter into my hands. I knew that he hadn’t meant it offensively and that he was simply in a very defensive state at the moment, so I chose to say nothing as I looked down to the letter and started to read it:

_Gustave,_

_Congratulations to you and your wife. I still remember the day you were born; your mother was terrified. I suppose now we know why. My wife Meg and I both hope this finds you well. Enclosed in this bag along with our gift is your original birth certificate, which records you as having my last name. Do with it what you wish._

_An island, a pier, a tragedy, a night I will regret forever._

_From the man who was almost your father._

“Although I miss the meaning of the body of the note, the sign-off...Gustave, I’m sorry,” I said, looking up at my son-in-law as I realized that I should have listened to my gut and sent the whole gift back to Raoul without a second thought. “I didn’t think he would make that sort of comment.”

“He doesn’t have the right! He lost all rights to me years ago. He can’t just come and go as he pleases, thinking there is still a shred of hope and respect left in my heart for him!” he exclaimed. Though his volume was rising, his overall tone was almost eerily still. “He has no claim over this happiness; you know where he and I stand. As far as I am concerned, Raoul de Chagny doesn’t exist. The only good part about this is that I can destroy this and be done with whatever legal claim he might have thought he had.”

Gustave took his birth certificate and ripped off the bottom corner, which I could only assume was the part that bore his mother’s signature; it was the only aspect of that document that I could see him wanting to keep. He then walked over to the stove and turned it on. Within seconds of the element being ignited, Gustave was holding the certificate over the flames, engulfing it in moments, but he held on much longer than what made me comfortable and nearly burned himself.

When the deed was done, he turned his attention back to me and I could tell that I was in for questions. “And this Meg woman. Do you know what her name was before their wedding? Her maiden name?” he asked.

"I didn't even find out about her until after the wedding. I didn't know he was courting or engaged again. I had no idea. What makes you ask?" I replied.

“I knew someone by that name,” he explained as I watched his eyes scan over the note once more.

“Oh, I remember. It was Giry; pretty woman, bright blonde hair,” I heard André say as he stepped into the room, but I had never wished more than I did at that moment that my son would be anywhere else other than in the same room as I was. “Uncle said he met her on Coney Island and that they’d been old friends.”

Gustave went white as a ghost and his voice was so quiet that I could barely hear him when he said, “Oh my god, he didn’t.”

“You’ve been in touch with your uncle?” I asked André, realizing that he must have spoken to Raoul recently to know that information.

“Yes I have, why haven’t you? He’s been asking about you a lot,” my son replied.

I looked back to Gustave with a jolt as his fist collided with the countertop. “That bastard didn’t,” he said, and I noticed then that his voice had changed; there was a deep growl in his tone that sent a chill down even my spine.

"André, your uncle and I are not on speaking terms.” I was almost frantic in making sure that I made the point before all else. “We haven't spoken before he asked that I pass on the music box for the baby. While you've been in America...a lot has happened, all with your uncle caught up in the middle of it."

“My god, I could kill him," Gustave said in the same dark tone as he had used earlier. He stared at the music box with such contempt that it looked as though it would burst into flames just as his birth certificate had.

My poor son had absolutely no idea what was happening; I wished that I had explained things to him earlier. "Gustave, Father, I don't understand. I'm going to need someone to give me at least a summary of what's happened before this goes any further," he said.

“Your damned uncle married the woman who killed my mother. Do you need more information?” Gustave snapped at André, clearly growing short on patience from all the questions.

“Oh my god. What? I can’t believe that, why on earth would he do that?” André asked; he looked to be reassessing every conversation he’d had with his uncle in hopes of figuring out how this could have happened. When he couldn’t figure it out, he looked to me for answers that I simply did not have. “Father, you really had no idea about any of this?”

“He never even sent me an invitation to the wedding. How on earth could I have known?” I replied, shrugging helplessly.

Gustave looked as though he wanted to leave; he was making his way out of the kitchen and said, “He was always slime but I thought he had some respect for the dead.”

“Gustave, you have to understand that I had no idea,” I pleaded.

“Whether you knew about her or not, you knew the gift was from him and you still brought it to me!” he exclaimed as he made a swift turn and looked me right in my eyes. When I saw him, I almost did not recognize him; he looked like a different person altogether. There was so much darkness and pain behind his eyes and I could not quite tell what he was reliving at that moment. “You know how I feel about him and that I want nothing to do with him, and yet you just had to fulfill his request and bring me a peace offering from him under the guise of a gift for my daughter!"

André then started to say something, probably with the hopes of calming him down: “Gustave, there-"

"Don't get involved in things beyond you,” Gustave snapped once more and left the kitchen. I wanted to go after him, but I had an obligation to my own son first.

“Why didn’t you tell me any of that? I went to their wedding, I met their first child. If I had known what’s gone on, I never would have done that," André said with a sigh.

“Because I didn’t know you and him were still so close,” I replied. I couldn’t help but feel defeated and like I could have done so many things different leading up until now and it could have saved so much grief. “I never even told him where you were moving to, so I wasn’t expecting him to contact you.”

“Well, I reached out to him first after I moved. I told him where I was and we kept up a correspondence.” Of course he had; I had sent my son to a new country with only one person that he knew and I simply assumed that he wouldn’t try to make contact.

“Good god, I’ve made such a mess of things," I sighed.

“Father, I’m sure we’ll be able to work this out. Gustave seems like a reasonable young man, I’m sure it’ll be fine," André said in an attempt to console me, though if he knew the situation he would not be thinking that it would be simple.

“Not when it comes to your uncle.”

“I’m beginning to see how that might be difficult, yes.” I realized the breadth of everything I would now have to explain to him for the entire interaction to make sense. “I can’t believe he’d do something like that.”

“There’s a lot you don't know about him.”

“Yes, I’m starting to realize that," André said with a sigh.

Erik then came into the kitchen looking quite confused and I was pointed to yet another person who would be hurt by what I had done. “I heard a commotion. What happened?” he asked as he looked between André and me.

“I brought a...a gift on behalf of Raoul and his wife, along with a note from them," I said as I gave Erik the note with a slight shake in my hand that I prayed was not as noticeable to see as it was to feel. “Gustave was...less than pleased with me for it.”

He scanned through the note in seconds and looked up at me with complete shock on his face. “Is this who I think it is?” he asked. I didn’t even have to know what he was referring to in order to answer his question.

“If that person happens to be Meg Giry, then yes, it is," I said quietly.

It was one of those moments where the similarities between the father and son became truly visible and I realized where Gustave got his response to anger. Erik went completely expressionless and asked a question in a tone that sent an unbearable chill down my spine: “Where did Gustave go?”

“He stormed off. I’m not sure where he went," I replied.

As if on cue, there was a crash upstairs that made André and I jump, but Erik did not move. He slammed the note on the table and looked me right in my eyes. “We are not done here,” was all he said before he walked out of the kitchen.

**_LARA_ **

The slam was heard throughout the entire house, so I quickly passed Christine over to Charlotte and went after the footsteps going towards the staircase. I found Erik had beaten me and was already halfway up.

“What just happened?” I heard Nadir ask from behind me.

“Stay out of this, Daroga. You don't want to get involved with this,” Erik snapped in response. The usual warmth in Erik’s eyes that he had when he looked at Nadir was gone, I noticed. Something was very wrong.

Nadir was clearly not having any of that and went ahead of me to the base of the stairs to look up at his friend directly. “Given how angry you look, I think I do want - or need, rather - to be involved. Erik, what’s going on?”

“Trust me, Nadir, stay out,” Erik replied, speaking through a clenched jaw. I realized then that I really needed both of those men to stop acting like boys so I could get through and see my husband.

“Erik, what is happening? Why do you look ready to kill someone?” Adele piped up, and quite honestly, she couldn’t be more correct.

Erik didn’t even look at her; he simply said: “You especially need to stay out of this.”

“Excuse me? Have I done something to hurt you that I’m not aware of?” She looked even more confused than ever and my feelings were very similar; I knew that Erik would never intentionally speak so sharply to her, but the fact that he was only confirmed the fact that something was incredibly wrong. “If that’s the case, Erik, I’m sorry, but if you could just explain, I would appreciate that.”

An exasperated sigh left him before he responded, glancing up the stairs as he spoke: “I’ll explain later, but for now, I need you to stay away from Gustave.” He then raced up the stairs faster than I had ever seen him move before without another word.

I didn’t mean to be so forceful but I had to push both Nadir and Adele aside to get past them, my heart pounding in my chest so hard that I could hear it in my ears. Erik only just beat me to the bedroom where we found Gustave on his knees on the floor, clutching his hand.

“Gustave, my god. What’s going on?” I asked.

“It’s okay, Lara,” he choked out.

“No it isn’t, you’re bleeding,” I said when I got closer and saw why he was holding his hand the way that he was; his knuckles were bruised and some spots had little trickles of blood coming from them. “Tell me what is going on.”

“I am fine.”

Erik then turned to me and asked: “Lara, fetch your first aid kit and a damp cloth for me, please.” 

“So it’s not fine,” I said, glaring at Gustave, who couldn’t even look me in the eyes. “I’ll be right back.”

When I returned with the first aid kit, Erik seemed to just be finished whispering something to Gustave but had stopped when I entered the room. I made a mental note to make sure I asked what was said and why it was so secretive.

“What is going on?” I asked as I passed the kit over to Erik; he was better with medical kinds of things than I was, so I figured that it made more sense for him to do it.

“Well, for one, your husband punched a wall,” Erik replied as he dabbed the bleeding spots on Gustave’s hand with the cloth to clean them.

I could not hide the fact that I was shocked; I had only ever seen Gustave get to the level he seemed to be at once before, but the thought of it being the same reason was impossible. “What on Earth? Gustave, tell me what is going on.”

He finally looked up away from his hand to look me right in my eyes. “Your uncle. That’s what’s going on,” he replied.

It took me a moment to register what was going on, but it still didn’t make any sense. “We haven’t seen him in years. What could he possibly have done?” I asked.

“He and his new wife sent us a gift for Christine! His pathetic attempt at reconciliation.” Gustave got up and walked away from both Erik and me.

“Don’t walk away from me right now,” I chided him and he stopped in his tracks. “How could he have sent it? He doesn’t have our new address. The only one he would have is...Father’s.” Looking up, I realized that Father had chosen that exact moment to come and check on what was happening. Of course he had.

“Raoul reached out to me not that long ago. None of us are on good terms with him, but he is still my little brother,” he explained. The pieces started to click together and I was not a fan of the picture they were creating. “I checked up on him recently and I mentioned the baby by accident. He insisted upon sending something when he found out her name.”

“Why would you bring it, though? Why would you even tell him her name?!” I asked him, tears in my eyes knowing what that revelation must have done to Gustave.

“I felt I owed it to him, I suppose. I don't know what I was thinking,” Father said quietly.

“I never want him or that woman mentioned in this house again,” Gustave stated. It was more of a command than a request and I could not hold it against him for phrasing it that way. “I still have nightmares, Philippe! He will never meet Christine. Neither of them will.”

“Gustave, look at me,” I said as I tried to get in between him and my father, all while trying to get a grip on things myself. “Everything is going to be alright. He doesn’t know where we live and he will never need to meet her. There is no use being mad at a man who can’t hear it for himself. Just look at me, take some deep breaths, and calm down.”

“I’m trying to calm down, Lara! I just can’t stop hearing him now.” He was crying, so angry I thought he would combust. “Thanks to what you thought was harmless,” he snapped as he pointed at my father with murder in his eyes and I knew that I needed to make sure that I stayed between them for everyone’s sake. “Your brother has never left my head. He lives within my mind without my consent. The marks on my arms may have gone away, but he has found other ways of tormenting me. I hear him mocking me and threatening me every single night! And you’ve brought back her - the woman who tore my life to pieces - all at the same time! How dare you bring that - bring both of them - into this house! Into my daughter’s home! I have built a life here and managed to break away from them, and you bring them right back to me! Why would you do that? I trusted that you understood what had happened and why I could never have him brought up again. Now you bring this to me and tell him my daughter’s name. How could you do that to me?”

“Gustave, just sit there and take a deep breath.” I pulled his face away from my father and forced him to look at me and only me, then glance over at my father and father-in-law. “Father, Erik, could you just give us a moment, please?” I knew that it wasn’t the best idea to have Erik leave at that moment, but it was the best idea I could come up with. Thankfully, they both acknowledged my request and left, which gave me hope that I would be able to calm Gustave enough for him to be comprehensive of the situation.

“Gustave, instead of losing your mind on my father, why don’t you tell me what’s happening in a calm tone?” I suggested as I led us both to the bed and sat down.

“He pulled me aside and handed me a box. He told me it was from your uncle and his new wife and asked me to open it. I did it for Philippe and no one else. I got through the note and recognized his wife’s name. It was then that your brother told me that the woman he married is the same woman who murdered my mother!” The words were falling out of him like rain from the sky and it was so much to take in at one time that I didn’t know how I was going to respond. “Is it truly that much of a shock that I lost my mind on him? That wasn’t even all that was in the box, you know. The note also had my birth certificate; up until a few minutes ago, I was still his. He still could have come for me. He could have shown up at my father’s door and taken me and there would have been nothing either of us could do about it.”

“Gustave, breathe. I think you’re forgetting that my father couldn’t have known,” I said gently in an effort to keep him from yelling, but he wasn’t having it.

“Your brother knew! It wouldn’t have been that hard for your father to find out. They were in touch when your uncle gave him the music box. Your father had a chance to inquire, to refuse to pass on the gift, and he didn’t. Now he knows her name too. I just want him to leave me alone. I have had nightmares since Christine was born of him walking up to her crib and taking her, with me powerless to stop him. I know that they are only bad dreams. I was able to reconcile with the fact that he didn’t even know of her existence, but now he does.”

“I know you have many qualms with my family and It hurts me to know how much he has hurt you and how much he continues to do so,” I said as I looked down at my feet. That was something that had been heavy on my heart whenever my uncle was brought up. “I am sorry that I must remind you of that every time you look at me.”

After a sharp inhale, Gustave seemed to stop breathing for a moment. “Lara please, you can’t be serious,” he said quietly.

“And what if I am?” I replied. “It only makes logical sense; it is your connection to me that keeps leading to him being brought up. It is alright if you are upset with me as a result of that.”

“Lara, please, no.” Gustave took my left hand and held my rings down to the base of my finger. “I could never be upset with you because of what he’s done.”

“I know you wouldn’t ever admit it to me, but it is not something we should keep ignoring.”

“I’ve gone and messed everything up now haven’t I?” Gustave muttered as he put his face in his hands. “I could never, ever look at you and see him. When I look at you, I see someone so much stronger than me; I see somebody who survives. I see my wife and I could never look at you any other way. I am so sorry.” He then took both of my hands in his and pressed a kiss to my knuckles, letting me see that his hands were shaking. He didn’t like going to that dark place of his but he simply couldn’t escape it sometimes.

“Gustave, I love you so much. I know this is hard and it upsets you a great deal, but all the yelling and screaming won’t fix a single thing, now will it?” I said softly, finally realizing that I had calmed him and would be able to get him to understand.

“How would I fix this, then? Because I’m not going to go downstairs and hear out an apology from your father. Not yet,” he said with a shake of his head.

I started to reply, but I suddenly took note of the fact that I was hearing a commotion that pulled my eyes away from him and towards the door. I couldn’t make out exactly whose voices they were, but it sounded quite intense.

“Well, how about you come down to break up whatever that is downstairs?” I suggested. He didn’t seem overly fond of the idea, but took my hand and followed me down the stairs regardless. When we got to the base of the stairs, I was able to put names to the voices, but the reality hit like a ton of bricks; it was Nadir and Erik going at it with practically murderous intent in their eyes.

“Did you know?! Answer me, damn it!” Erik yelled. I had never seen him so upset with Nadir ever in my life.

“I had heard she married him, yes! There, I said it! Are you satisfied now?!” Nadir shot back.

Erik froze in place for a moment and I watched a tidal wave of emotions rolling across his face. “And you didn’t think to say anything?!” he snapped.

“What good would that have done?!” Nadir sounded exhausted by all that was going on, but I could tell that Erik was just getting started and that was what terrified me.

“It would have at least made me aware so I wouldn’t have had to find out when they try to send a gift of reconciliation for my grandchild!” Erik retorted, and I noticed that he held what I could only assume was that same gift in his hands. “Do you not think that’s a detail that I should know?!”

Adele and I seemed to have been sharing thoughts, as she snapped at both of them, saying exactly what I was thinking: “Could you two stop this? This is pointless.”

“I already accepted your apology long ago, Madame,” Erik immediately replied. I hadn’t heard him call her that except as a joke, but the way he had said it then, with his voice as cool and deep and...threatening as it had just been, lit a spark of fear in the pit of my stomach. “Don't push your luck.”   
  


“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll watch how you speak to her, angry or not,” Nadir said as he stepped in to defend her, pushing his wife behind him.

“I’ve seen what you’re capable of, Daroga. You’ll have to do a lot more than that to scare me.”

“I’m not trying to scare you, I’m putting you in your place, Erik.” I’d never seen Nadir so angry before in all my years of knowing him, but I also knew him to be very protective, so it wasn’t exactly out of character for him to jump to his wife’s defence. “She is my wife and I will not allow you to speak to her like that, no matter the circumstances.”

“Look who refuses to let chivalry die. I think I know better than you that she can fight her own battles. She definitely knows how to start them,” Erik replied, his voice dripping with every emotion he must have been feeling at that moment to the point that I could barely decipher all of them. At the same time, though, there was a distinct steadiness in his tone that could not be ignored.

“I am well aware of the fact that she can fight her own battles. I’m only making sure she isn’t being hurt by an idiot who can’t keep his temper in check.” They were practically at each other's throats, though they had been at opposite walls in the kitchen when we came downstairs. Despite the physical space between them, though, there was no denying that a sword would be needed to cut the tension.

“Did you really expect either of us to say anything about this? I kept this from you to protect you from being hurt like this, why can’t you understand that?” Nadir demanded.

“Because maybe it would have hurt less coming from you,” Erik said simply, and despite the fury in his voice, I thought I picked up on his voice wavering slightly when he said that.

“Somehow I doubt that those sentiments are the ones you would have had if I had told you,” Nadir said, obviously getting tired of the circles they seemed to be going in. “You would have just gotten all defensive like you just did, throwing out comments about her being my stepdaughter and how I’m stepping up to the plate to defend her all of a sudden. You made those remarks now and you would have made them when I told you earlier. I have known you for too long, Erik, I know how you operate.”

“Then I suppose you don't know me at all. If you knew me, you would know that after the initial shock and blowout, I wouldn’t have blamed you for the actions of that man and woman. I would never,” Erik retorted. I knew that there was some truth in what both of them were saying; in reality, it would have been some amalgamation of both of their scenarios, but they were both too prideful and too angry to admit that.

Nadir scoffed and continued his fight to prove his point: “But you are blaming me now? What are you trying to prove, Erik? You’re furious with me, that much is plain to see, but I can’t tell who you’re angrier with - them or me. I made a mistake, I recognize that, but I only wanted to protect you! That’s what I have always wanted to do, the entire time I’ve known you.”

“I am not some child that needs your protection,” Erik snapped. At some point over the course of the last minute or so, they had inched forward and were practically nose-to-nose.

“If you’re no child, then stop acting like one,” Nadir replied.

"I am not acting like a child. I am simply reacting like a human being to finding out news that has made me beyond angry, as well as discovering that the man I thought was my friend knew about it, but didn't tell me because he doesn't trust me enough to control myself."

"Doesn't trust you? If I didn't trust you, would I have kept you in my life as long as I have? Would I have let you step a foot in my home when I brought you to Persia? Do you think I would have let you come within a mile of my son if I didn't trust you?” Nadir asked, the questions coming in response almost immediately. I couldn’t tell if he was more hurt or angry; either way, visible tears were welling up in his eyes and they seemed to be dangerously close to falling freely. “You have killed people in cold blood and I let you get close to the person that I love most in this world, and you think I don't trust you?! How askew does your perception have to be for you to think that, Erik?!"

One barely had enough time to gasp as Erik’s hand shot up like a bullet from his side and was inches from Nadir’s throat. Thankfully, he was able to catch it, but instead of pushing it down immediately, he held it in place. He looked between it and Erik’s face before saying, “I suppose old habits really do die hard.”

Erik’s hand starts to shake and I couldn’t tell if it was because of his own realization or the way that Nadir was holding his wrist.

“Adele, let’s go. There is nothing left for us to talk about here and I can tell we aren’t exactly wanted. No reason to stay,” Nadir said cooly, finally letting go of Erik’s wrist and taking his wife by the hand to lead her out of the room.

It wasn’t until the front door closed that we fully came to terms with the fact that they really had just left. I turned to Gustave in hopes that he would say something, but he was as pale as a ghost. Even despite the bandages, he was holding my hand as tight as possible. I concluded that he had never seen them fight before; those two had raised him and he had never seen that with his own eyes. To add that to his already fragile state from earlier in the evening, he had to have felt like life was crumbling around him all over again.

“Alright, I may not know everything that you two have been through, but I know for certain that you two are brothers,” I finally said, breaking the silence because I was tired of the fighting and was determined to stop it; no more pain could be allowed in our family, I wouldn’t going to allow it. “I know better than anyone that siblings fight; André can attest to that. Both of you acted like children just now and I expected more from you. How do you think you’ll feel if you don't go after him right now? If you two don't talk this out, you’ve just lost the best friend you’ve ever had. Now go and talk. To. Him.”

“Why should I? He won’t want to speak to me, and I'm not keen on doing that either,” Erik replied, sounding so defeated that it broke my heart a little.

“I’m not asking. I’m telling. Go talk to him,” I repeated.

Erik looked like he wanted to take his mask off to wipe his eyes, but there were still other people around so I knew he wouldn’t. “He is already gone, Lara.”

“That means you go after him,” I told him point-blank. “You and I both know you’ll regret it if you don't.”

“Why bother at this point? He won’t say anything. I know that look he had on his face; he isn’t going to say a word to me.” I knew right away that he was trying to stall. At that point, I was surprised he hadn’t figured out that he didn’t have a choice in the matter; he was going to at least try even if I had to drag him out by the ear.

“All the better for you to talk,” I said as I crossed my arms in front of my chest.

“He won't listen to me either. I've only seen that look on his face once before and it was when I thought I had done something that he could never forgive me for. I got lucky then, but I'm beginning to think I might not be so fortunate this time."

“Only one way to find out. Go now.”

He must have finally realized that I wasn’t going to let up, as he went to the door and opened it with Gustave and I following behind him. Much to my own dismay and probably his, though, Nadir and Adele were already out of sight.

"What did I tell you? He wants nothing to do with me at the moment,” he said with a slight shrug of his shoulder as he grabbed his coat and slipped on his shoes before kissing me on my forehead. "I appreciate that you tried, Lara. Apologize to your parents for what happened, and kiss Christine for me."

“Papa, don't leave,” Gustave said as he reached out and grabbed his father’s arm in an attempt to get him to stay.

When Erik turned around to look at us, one could see within his eyes all the sadness of the world. Nobody had intended the night to take the turn that it had, but there we were. "Gustave, I just need to go home and clear my head. I'm not in the frame of mind to stay here and socialize,” he said.

“You don’t have to. Just don’t leave,” my husband replied.

"What would you have me do if I stay? Sit on the couch and say nothing? I've already made things tense here, with the Comte especially.” Erik looked so defeated as he looked over to the living room where everyone had gathered when the fighting began. “I don't need to make it worse, so I'll just go home."

“I don’t want you alone right now,” Gustave said, his voice cracking with his final word. That sounded like more a plea than anything else, which felt so odd to come out of Gustave. I hadn’t heard him sound like that since before he left for deployment and I had tried to unpack his things. The message was the same though, he was asking for someone not to leave.

"Nothing is going to happen, Gustave. I'll be fine,” Erik replied.

“I need you to swear to me that nothing will happen.”

"I am telling you nothing is going to happen. What do you have in your head that I would go home and do?"

There was an uncomfortable pause, which I knew was because all of the possible outcomes of that night were running through Gustave’s mind like a runaway train. “I don’t know and I don’t care enough to find out,” he finally said.

"Well, I'm not going to go and attempt anything stupid, if that puts your mind at ease,” Erik replied.

“Alright. Come by tomorrow please.” Gustave was getting choked up again, so he took a moment to recompose himself before he added, “If you don’t, I’ll come to you.”

"Yes, I'll see how I'm feeling in the morning. I'll try and call if I'm not feeling up to coming." It didn’t take a genius to be able to tell that he was completely intent on not coming tomorrow.

“I’ll be waiting. Good night, Papa.”

"Good night. Make sure you tell Christine I love her as well,” Erik said as he looked in the direction of the living room again, no doubt wishing he could say goodbye to his granddaughter, but I had left Christine with my mother and she was almost certainly still holding her. “I would go say good night to her myself, but...I just need to go home right now."

“Alright. Have a good night.”

The moment Erik closed the door behind him, Gustave looked to me with almost a sense of panic in his eyes. "I'm not the only one who can tell how upset he is, right?" he asked.

Before I could even affirm him of his position he kept going: “I’m worried about him. This isn’t right. I’ve never seen them at each other’s throats like that.”

"Neither have I,” I was finally able to admit. “I don't think I've ever seen your father so angry."

“I’ve seen it once before. The combination of Mother and your uncle set him off.” I once again had to make a mental note of the fact that I had to ask him about that later on.

"And understandably so. I know your father has a temper - you're the same way - but Nadir...I didn't know he had it in him to be quite so furious,” I said as I thought back to the coldness that I had seen that night that I had witnessed on Nadir’s face before. He had always been so warm and level-headed that I truly hadn’t been expecting that from him. “Especially with your father, of all people."

“My Uncle Nadir has a lot more patience than my father. That’s why they balance each other out so well,” Gustave pointed out, which was undeniably true the more I thought about it. “But his temper is quieter; he won’t yell normally, he knows better than that. I think that’s one of the only times I’ve seen him raise his voice.”

"He looked so angry, but I could tell it hurt to fight with your father like that; I could see it in his eyes. Especially after he mentioned his son. I can tell there's much more to that story than I know, isn't there?"

He sighed before admitting, “I think there’s more to that story than either of us will ever know.”

"I hope they fix this soon.” My own heart was racing at the thought that they might not recover from what just happened. They had to, didn’t they? “Your father can't live without Nadir and he knows it."

“Let’s hope they both realize how much they need each other before it’s too late.”

"They have to.” I couldn’t tell if I was trying to reassure Gustave or myself; we both needed to hear it, really. “I'm just as afraid as you are about what Erik will do if that doesn't happen."

“And like I said to him, I don’t care to find out.”

My heart stopped for a moment in my chest at the realization of exactly what was at stake with every moment that Erik was alone. "You...you don't think he would try to harm himself at all, do you? I know Nadir worried about that the day that you left the train station, but I never knew if those fears had any substance,” I said quietly.

“I wouldn’t put it out of the equation.” Gustave’s hand started tapping on his thigh with anxiety so I took it into my own. “I’m going to check on him tomorrow whether he wants it or not.”

"I'll join you. I don't think I could bear it if something like that happened to him."

“You should stay here with Christine.” I could see the gears in his head turning and I couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or not. “I think I have a plan to make sure that they make up.”

"Gustave, I'm going to come with you. I want to make sure they make up just as much as you do," I replied, surprised to hear him trying to keep me out of this.

“I’ll explain my plan in the morning. Just trust me, please,” he requested.

"You know I do, my love. I'm just worried about those two. I love them both so much."

“I know you do and I love them too,” he started, “but the only way they’re going to make up is if we give them no choice.”

"That's a good point. As mad as they are, I doubt they'll choose to speak to each other anytime soon. I trust that you'll work this out; I'm going to go talk to Father and make sure he's okay. He must be beating himself up so much for this; he sat back during the fight and looked rather upset with himself."

Gustave let go of my hand and kept staring at the front door, almost as if he believed that if he looked at it enough, they would both come back as if nothing had happened. “Papa doesn’t like conflict with those he cares about. After we fought, neither of us could sleep for the whole night,” he said quietly.

"I have a feeling the situation is going to be similar tonight. Those two care about each other so much,” I sighed.

“I know they do. And we’re going to make sure they’re alright.” Gustave then turned his attention back to me and lifted my hand again so he could kiss it. “I promise.”

I kissed his hand as well before saying: "I believe you, my dear." With that, we walked back into the living room that felt much colder than it had in a long time. 


	35. Accidental Unveiling (Part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> everyone takes a deep breath and reconciles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mention/reference to self-harm
> 
> if you would like to avoid this section of the chapter, but would still like to read the rest of the content, look for the asterisks; they will mark the beginning and the end of this chunk of the chapter <3
> 
> if you or someone you love is struggling with mental health/thoughts of self-harm/suicide, please reach out to someone that you trust or a local help line in your area. you are loved and you are worth it.

**_JANUARY 1923_ **

**_GUSTAVE_ **

Papa had told me when I called that morning that he did not want anyone visiting him that day. He may have been a good liar, but when it came to me, he was no actor. I had heard in his voice alone that he was definitely not as alright as he was claiming to be, and besides, he should have known better than to think I would have believed him.

When I knocked on his front door I received no answer besides the sound of him yelling at me from the inside: “Gustave, I told you on the phone that I wasn’t feeling up to having visitors today!”

I tried to stifle a laugh at how foolish he was being as I tried my hand at the doorknob. “You had to have known I was going to come to see you no matter what you said,” I replied. When the door proved to be locked, I stepped off the porch and lifted the rock in the garden where Papa hid the spare key, having left my own on at home, and unlocked the door.

Once I was inside, I was greeted with a sight I don’t think I will ever forget. Papa was a mess, to say the least; he was sprawled out on the couch with a whiskey glass in hand, his mask was on the floor and his hairpiece sat crooked on his head.

He did not even look at me as he pleaded, “Please leave me alone.”

“No, Papa. I’m sorry, but I’m not going to leave you alone, especially not in this state,” I said with a sigh.

“I’m fine. Just go.” He still wouldn’t look at me.

“You’re not fine, Papa. You’re drinking and you look like a mess,” I replied as I took the decanter from the coffee table and the glass out of his hand. I hadn't seen him open it since I told him the truth about what had happened while I was gone during the war, so I certainly never thought he would be one to use it in excess, but there was a first time for everything. “Dare I say you’re the opposite of fine.”

“Gustave, don't get smart with me. I’m in no mood.” His tone was erratic, I noticed. He couldn’t keep his voice level; he was undoubtedly at least somewhat drunk.

“I’m not being smart, I’m being honest.” I walked into his line of vision and held the almost empty decanter out towards him. “How much of this have you drunk?” I demanded.

He waved me off and tried to get up to leave. I was steadily growing angrier as the minutes passed; I couldn’t handle seeing him the same way I saw…

Lost in my own memories, I slammed the decanter on the table; I was lucky it didn’t shatter. “Papa, answer me. How much?!”

Papa jumped at the sound and finally looked me in the eyes as he spoke: “I wasn’t keeping count, Gustave. Not enough, evidently, because I can still remember what happened last night.”

“Don't go down that road, Papa. We both know that it won’t end well.” I was trying to be level-headed but he was angering me with how little he seemed to care.

“I don't see how it could get worse at the moment. Your Uncle is one of the only people in my life who actually gave a damn about me when I was alone and now I have angered him so much I might never get the chance to admit that I was wrong,” he said as he raised his hands in surrender before he turned to try and walk away. “Why shouldn’t I just throw an abundance of alcohol into the mix?”

“Because it’s not going to fix anything!” I felt my voice crack as I spoke those words, but they needed to be said. I could not bear witness to him drowning his sorrows in a bottle.

He must have heard how troubled I was by everything, as he glanced over his shoulder at me, though we had somehow returned to the part where he didn’t look me in the eyes. “I’m going to give you that only because of the pounding in my head. Talking isn’t making it any better,” he sighed.

“Papa, did you sleep last night?” I asked him.

He gestured to himself and it felt like he was mocking the question itself. “Look at me and draw a conclusion.”

“Papa, I’m not going to deal with you if you’re going to act like this. Now if you could be serious for a moment and look me in the eyes as you speak, I’d appreciate it.”

“Gustave, I told you I didn’t want to see anyone and you came anyway,” he pointed out. “You really expect me to cooperate and carry out a conversation?”

“I’d like to think I can expect that from my father,” I snapped back. He had to realize how similar we truly were; he was not going to simply be rid of me because he wanted to be difficult.

He gave me an overly-exaggerated sigh and turned back around to face me. “There. Now you can see just how much of a mess I am. What else do you want?”

I cautiously took a step towards him, wanting to be as gentle as possible with him. “I want to know that you are okay, but I believe that question can be answered without having to speak. Now we need to get you dressed into something that doesn’t make it look like you just got dragged through the street,” I explained as I gestured upstairs.

“Why? It’s not like I’m going anywhere or seeing anyone besides you.”

I remembered that I had yet to fill in my lie and thought quickly: “Lara wants to see you. She’s at home because Christine had a hard time sleeping through the night. Now come on, or do I need to help you up the stairs?”

“I should be able to get up there myself, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to. I’m in no state to see your wife or my granddaughter.”

“It doesn’t matter. We’ve both seen you in worse situations and Christine is too young to remember it.” I knew that he was worried about having Christine see him in such a state so I crafted my cover-up carefully. “Lara wants to see you; she is worried about you. It took me promising to come to get you in order for her to even agree to stay home and try to get some sleep with Christine.”

“Gustave, really, I...I just want to be by myself.”

“Do you really want Lara to come here and see this? Because if I go back alone, she’ll come here,” I shot back with an attempted guilt trip that he had used a thousand times before.

“No, I don't want her to see me like this. I didn’t want you to see this, never mind her.”

“Good. Now get changed.”

I had thought that my plan was working until he continued to try and get me to leave: “Gustave, can I not just phone Lara and talk to her? I’m a mess, my head is absolutely pounding, I’m mad at myself and upset about what happened last night. I don't want to make her have to put up with that.”

“Papa, I’m not giving you the option and you know Lara is more terrifying than both of us combined. I don't think you want to be on the receiving end of whatever happens if you don't come with me.”

“I don't, no, but that doesn’t mean I want to leave the house.” His tone was getting softer and I thought for a moment that I might have actually gotten to him.

I had been saving this line until it was absolutely necessary and it seems that it was. “It’s not about what you want to do. It’s about what you’re _going_ to do.”

“I don't want to even discuss what happened last night with anyone, Gustave. Not even Lara.”

“You don't have to discuss what happened. Regardless of whether or not you do, I think it would be helpful to get out of the house. Just come and show Lara that you’re alright and maybe have a cup of tea.”

“Fine. I’ll go change.” Victory at last; I had finally broken him. He went upstairs and the second I heard him reach the second floor, I raced over to the telephone and had the operator connect me to Lara.  
  


“We’ll be coming home soon,” I blurted out as soon as I heard her answer. “Are they there?”

“Yes, they’re here. Nadir just stepped into the kitchen to make tea for the three of us.” I breathed a sigh of relief hearing that; Uncle always had a hard time saying no to the two of us and I knew that we had a better chance of getting him there if I had Lara call him over, and I turned out to be correct.

“Put the kettle on for more,” I said.

“I will, don't worry,” she affirmed. “Is he alright?”

“Not great, but he’s coming. It took more convincing than I thought it would.” I tried my best to downplay the intensity of the current situation though I knew that she knew better than to believe that.

The sigh that I heard from her told me that I was right yet again. “Well, at least he’s coming. I’ll let you go now. I’ll see you soon.”

“Of course. I hope this works the way we want.” I was just beginning to feel a twinge of doubt in my plan. What if they didn’t make up? What if they still hated each other after everything we’d done? I tried to push that out of my mind and focus on the fact that I would not know the results until I tested it for myself.

“Yes, let’s hope it does. Now go before your father catches you on the phone and asks questions.”

“Best of luck with Uncle.”

“You’re going to need more help with your father than I will with Nadir. We both know that,” Lara said as she tried to let out a small laugh to lighten the mood. She was right, of course; of the two men we were dealing with, I knew that I would need significantly more luck with my situation than she would need with hers.

“You’re probably right. I think he’s coming down now. Goodbye, dear.”

“Goodbye, my love. Take care,” was the last thing I heard her say before I hung up the phone.

It was just in time too; Papa was just reaching the bottom of the stairs when I placed the receiver. “Why were you on the phone?” he asked.

“Lara called to get a hold of me.” I fabricated the lie with much more ease that time around. “She couldn’t keep sleeping anymore, so she was calling to ask if I was coming home soon.”

He seemed to believe me as he quickly spun on his heels towards the door, which was something I had never seen him do; seeing my father drunk was certainly strange. “Alright then, let’s get going. Let’s not keep her waiting.”

However, I noticed right when he turned that his shirtsleeves were unbuttoned; that wasn’t like him. I thought perhaps I could blame it on the fact that the decanter contained just under half of its original contents, but I then saw that he was pulling his sleeves down as well. Something was wrong and he was trying to hide it.

“Before we do that, Papa, could I see your hands please?”

“Why would you need to see my hands?” he asked, probably not even realizing that, as he said that, he pulled his sleeves down even harder.

“Because I’d like to know why you’re pulling at your sleeves,” I said simply.

He released his hold on his sleeves, but he made sure not to move his fingers, staying perfectly still, almost out of fear that they would move again if he moved even an inch. “I’m not pulling at my sleeves.”

“Yes, you are. Now let me see your hands.”

“Gustave, no. There’s no reason for that.” He was getting defensive again, I noticed.

“Fine. If you won’t show me, tell me,” I retorted, proving that I could be just as stubborn as him. “Why are you pulling at your sleeves? I could go back and forth like this all day if we have to.” He didn’t say anything to try and prove me wrong, so I made an attempt and walked towards him only for him to immediately take just as many steps back.

“Gustave, this won’t do any good,” he insisted. His hands had resumed their death grip on his sleeves, which did not help his case.

“Neither will you not telling me what’s going on. Papa, please.”

“I don't think this is a good idea.” He kept staring at the floor the entire time, his voice quiet.

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest by then and it took everything in me to keep my voice level. “Why not? What has happened that you can’t fulfill such a simple request?”

“Because I don't want you to look at me the way I know you will.” He was being cryptic again, and by that point, I truly did not have the patience to beat around the bush; my mind was too busy flooding with possibilities of what could have happened.

“Papa, what happened? If you aren’t going to tell me, let me see.”

“Gustave, please.”

“Why is it such a problem? You’re starting to scare me, Papa,” I admitted, unable to hide that fact anymore.

He let out a deep sigh and finally looked at my face again. “Alright, fine. But please promise me that you won’t get upset.”

********

“Okay, I promise, it’s alright.” I was willing to say anything at that moment just for the sake of getting an answer.

Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw when he lifted his sleeves and I immediately realized why he didn’t have the cuffs buttoned. There were jagged zig-zagged lines that cut deep into his skin, hastily covered with strips of gauze. Uncle Nadir had told me that that was something that Papa had done before, but I never thought he would ever go back to it.

“Oh, Papa. What...what happened?” I asked. I spoke softly because I was barely able to keep myself together and if I had raised my voice he would have known that.

“I hoped that you would never see me like this,” he whispered, a tear rolling down his cheek as he went back to looking at the floor.

I wasn’t sure what to ask, so I went with the safest but also the stupidest question that came to mind: “I just...are you okay?”

“I don't know how to answer that.” I didn’t know what more I could have expected him to say.

After a moment of hesitation, I had a much more intelligent question to ask him: “Have you cleaned them recently?”

“This morning. I just haphazardly bandaged them last night.”

“I’m going to go get the first aid kit. You sit on the couch, I’ll be back in a moment,” I told him. It was taking everything in me not to fall apart right there in front of him.

I could barely hear him as he insisted, “Gustave, please. I’m fine.”

“I said what I said, now don't argue.” The last thing I needed from him was deliberation on whether he was going to do what I asked or not. “I will be back in a moment.”

I practically ran upstairs the moment I saw him seated on the couch, knowing that, as long as he hadn’t moved it, the first aid kit would still be in the bathroom. I went to the cupboard under the sink and found the little white box, then made sure it was still properly stocked with what I needed. I noticed little drops of brown on the packaging of the bandages and that the medical tape had been given a very rough cut. The events of last night became all too real in my mind and I looked up in the mirror, only to see my father wrapping his arms with tears in his eyes instead of my own reflection. I felt myself start to hyperventilate as the necessity for my plan to work became all too real.

I quickly controlled my breathing and went back downstairs with the medical supplies in hand, finding Papa still sitting on the couch with his head hung in shame. I sat down next to him and set the first aid kit on the coffee table.

“Alright, roll up your sleeves,” I gently requested.

Without a word, he complied and rolled his sleeves all the way up to his elbows, which allowed me to see the full extent of what had happened; his self-inflicted damage went further up his arms than I had anticipated. I carefully unwrapped the old bandages and set them on the table to be thrown out later, knowing that the cuts needed to be cleaned. I took the rubbing alcohol and a small cotton swab and dabbed at them ever so gently. In the especially deep areas, I tried to be careful but it clearly still stung; I saw him tense up and heard him breathe in sharply a few times.

After a while of me murmuring apologies whenever that happened, Papa finally spoke again: “You shouldn’t be the one apologizing.”

I was too focused on his arms to look up at him as I responded: “Well, I can’t believe I let you go home. I should have made you stay or come with you.”

“Please don't blame yourself for this. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But if I was here, I might have been able to help you.” Vocalizing that thought made it hit even harder than I had been expecting. A seed of regret and shame sprouted in the pit of my stomach at the thought that by me letting him go home alone, I had allowed him to harm himself.

“I was deep in my own head last night, I wouldn’t have listened to you. This...this is my own fault because I caused that senseless fight and now I’m paying for it.”

“I would have been able to physically stop you is what I meant,” I explained as I finished wrapping one of his arms and began with the next one.

“I think you’d be surprised at the strength I seem to possess when I’m this depressed and drunk at the same time. It’s not a pretty sight.” I could not tell if he was trying to lighten the overall mood with that comment, but it did not work.

“And I think you’d be surprised at my strength when it comes to protecting people I love,” I said as I finally looked right at his face. Tears were welling up in his eyes and I simply did not know what else to say to him.

We stayed silent for the remainder of the time I spent wrapping his arms. Neither of us really knew what to say next and it hung heavily over us like a thick fog, though as a result of that, it made the sound of his voice so much louder when he whispered, “I am so sorry.”

********

“Save your apologies. There is nothing you have to apologize to me for,” I tried to affirm him.

“For something as drastic and stupid as this? I beg to differ.”

“Papa, if I’m not allowed to apologize, neither are you.” I was finally done wrapping his arms and he was able to pull his sleeves back down over the proper bandaging.

“I feel I have to. I have you to watch over, and now I have my granddaughter who...who is my world, and I still did this. I’m sorry I even tried, I never wanted to do this to you.” His voice was cracking as he spoke. I looked up from packing up the kit and saw that the tears had finally fallen from his eyes.

“As much as I don't want you to do this at all, I think I needed to see this, in a way. You don't need to hide from me.”

“But this is a part of me I never wanted you to see.” He looked down at his arms at that and I continued to see tears drop from his face and onto his sleeves. “Hearing about it is enough. No father should ever do this to his son.”

“You’re not doing this to me. You are doing this to yourself, which, in turn, breaks my heart,” I said as I took his hands in mine and held them for reassurance.

“And that’s what I’m sorry for. I never want to be responsible for putting such a heartbroken expression on your face, but now I am and I despise myself for that.” His voice cracked again as he spoke about himself.

“I don't want to hear any more words of hate from you.” I hadn’t meant for there to be a snap in my voice, but it happened before I could stop it. “You have always been so strong for me even though I know you had no idea what you were doing. I’ve taken your strength for granted nearly my entire life. It’s okay to be weak; it makes you just as human as the rest of us.”

“But I wanted to be so much more for you.” He still wouldn’t look at my face; he kept his eyes glued to our hands.

“You’ve given me everything I ever could have asked for. It’s alright for you to take the love and ask for the help that you deserve.”

He finally looked up at me as I said that. I was not sure what caused him to look up with those words specifically but I was not about to question it. “You remind me more and more of your mother every day. It’s remarkable.”

“And I hope that fact helps you to see that I love you for who you are, and that’s all I could want. Everything I’ve needed, you’ve given me, and any dream or flight of fancy that I had, you worked to make come true. You were, and still are, my hero. The man I aspire to be like. That said, to feel a bit broken and let me see that isn’t wrong. You can’t do everything for others and take nothing in return; there needs to be a balance there.” At some point in my speech, I had started crying too. At that point in my life, I finally completely understood his desire to appear unbreakable to me; I wanted nothing less for Christine, but it would be unfair to her and myself to put that type of mantle on. I just needed him to understand that as well.

“What could I have ever done to deserve you, my boy? You make everything worthwhile. I would give anything to be able to be strong for you all the time; I would, I swear,” he said softly as he ran his fingers through my hair just like he used to when I was a child.

“And I believe you with everything in me, Papa. You are the strongest man I know and I know you’re going to keep that up as long as you possibly can. But just know that you shouldn't be afraid to show the fact that you’re hurting. I can’t help you if you don't.”

“I promise you, I will try,” he said as he wiped a tear from my cheek.

I did the same as I replied, “That’s all I want, Papa. I don't ask you to be perfect, I just want you to do the best you can.”

“I will. I’ll do my best.”

We sat there hugging on the couch for about five minutes and it felt like it had been years in the making; there was so much being said between us without either of us having to say a word.

When we let go of one another I made sure he was looking in my eyes before I spoke: “I love you, Papa. That’s why seeing you like this upsets me. I never want to see you hurting.”

“Hopefully you never will again,” he replied. It made me breathe slightly easier than I had been before; the affirmation that he was going to try and that neither of us would have to go through what we had just been through again.

“I hope I don't either,” I said as I stood up from the couch. “Now, let’s go see Lara and Christine. I refuse to let you be by yourself.”

At long last, there were no protests to be made and I left the house with my father in tow.

* * *

The drive from my father’s house to my own was hardly a long one, but when it was made in heavy, tense silence, it felt like it took hours. Though I made sure to always watch the road as I drove, I was paying keen attention to Papa the entire time. He hadn’t said a word since we had left the house; he had simply climbed into the passenger’s seat of my car, turned to look out the window, and had yet to change positions.

My eyes were drawn to his newly bandaged wrists every time I looked at him; I could just barely see the edges of them poking out from under the cuffs of his coat, especially now that he had stopped pulling on his sleeves. It still broke my heart that he had sunk so low so quickly, and I was trying not to blame myself for letting him leave my sight. I knew that doing that would only make him feel worse, which was the last thing I wanted to do. That said, knowing that it had even happened was the only thing occupying my mind and I had questions that I didn’t know if I should ask but wanted answers to nonetheless and-

“If you want to say something, just say it,” my father said, his sudden decision to speak interrupting my train of thought and making me glance over at him; he had turned his head to look out the windshield, but the masked side of his face was all I could see, so I had no grasp on his emotional state.

“What do you mean?” I asked, genuinely confused by his statement.

“I can practically feel you burning holes in me with your staring, so say what you want, ask your questions,” he replied, only to sigh when I hesitated to speak. “I don't mean to be short with you, Gustave; I’m just tired, in pain, and ashamed of myself. I do genuinely want to help you understand this, so pardon my tone.”

I smiled slightly and reached over to set one hand on his knee. “I know you don't mean it, it’s okay. I’m just worried about you, hence all the staring, but I suppose the only thing I would consider asking is...has this happened before?”

He dropped his head, I noticed, his hand coming to rest over mine. That was how we stayed for a moment - silent, with his thumb brushing over his knuckles,- before he finally found his voice again: “The ideation really started when I was about seventeen. I had been in Russia for just under a year; the grief over losing my only father figure and my first admirer was still incredibly heavy, and other...traumas from when I was a boy still stung as if they were fresh. I didn’t take any rash action then, but I...experimented with different ways to deal with the pain I was feeling.

“Things only got worse when I moved to Persia. There, plagued by constant abuse, a newfound opium addiction, and at the beck and call of the shah as his executioner, I sunk into a world of self-loathing and darkness like I never had before. And after Reza died…”

He trailed off then and I was quick to give his hand a gentle squeeze. We had pulled into my driveway by that point, but I wasn’t about to cut him off in the midst of such an important conversation.

“It’s alright, Papa. Just take your time,” I said softly, trying to support him as best I could.

He nodded, took a deep breath, and continued: “After Reza died, I didn’t know what to do. I hated myself for what I’d done, so I came home from the palace, locked myself in my bedroom, and tried to slit my wrists. It...it wasn’t about using pain to distract from what my life was anymore; it was about putting an end to the life that I was so tired of living, even though I was only twenty-one.

“When I came to, I was only disappointed for a moment that I hadn’t succeeded before I saw Nadir and he was in tears and he...he begged me not to take away the only family he had left.”

As soon as I heard his voice break, I leaned over to pull him into my arms, hoping that that memory alone would make the prospective apology to Uncle Nadir even easier. “It’s just because he loves you, Papa. You can’t hold it against yourself, just as you can’t do that with this instance either,” I said, gently rubbing his back.

“I’ve had to answer to him once for it, and now this is the second time I’ve done it with you in my life, which is why I’m so sorry,” he replied as he held onto me tightly.

I couldn’t help but frown when I heard what he’d said. “The second time?” I breathed, trying to consider when I had let that slip under my nose.

“We...we were still on the boat back from America. The nightmares wouldn’t stop and I was missing your mother.”

“That night when you locked yourself in the privy and wouldn’t open the door or tell me why when I noticed,” I whispered as the realization finally dawned on me and I held him even tighter than before.

“It has never happened again until now and it won’t happen again,” Papa said quietly, leaning back from our embrace a moment later and slipping his mask off to dry the tears that had fallen onto his cheeks. “I promise.”

“I know, Papa, and I know you’ll keep that promise. Now, let’s go inside to see Lara and Christine. That ought to cheer you up at least a bit.”

I pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before he covered it with his mask again and the two of us made our way to my front door, which was quickly opened by my wife soon after I had knocked.

“Hello, you two. It’s good to see you, Erik. How are you? I’ve been worried, so I’m glad you’re here,” Lara said, propping Christine on her hip even as she squirmed after setting her sights on her grandfather.

“I’m alright, dear,” Papa replied as he kissed her forehead, then turned to Christine. “Hello, angel.”

“Nonno, Nonno,” my daughter giggled as she reached towards him.

He smiled slightly as he picked her up, situating his arms just right to avoid putting too much pressure on them - though I knew it must have still hurt him to a degree given how far up his arms he had made the cuts,- and smoothed down her hair. “I hear you made things a bit hard for your _maman_ last night.”

“She certainly did. She hardly slept,” Lara sighed as she glanced at me, and although I could see her eagerness to put our plan in action, I could tell she was quite tired. Her dedication amazed me. “She just cried quite a bit and had to have me or Gustave hold her all night. It almost makes me think that she was a bit worried about her grandfather too.”

I smiled at my wife’s comment, knowing she was playing it up for Papa’s sake. “I don't think she fully understood what happened, but I believe the yelling did scare her a bit,” I said.

“Well, I’m sorry, my angel. I didn’t mean to frighten you with all that nonsense yesterday,” Papa said as he kissed Christine. “You can forgive Nonno for being silly, can’t you?”

Both Lara and I laughed quietly as we watched our baby giggle and pat his cheek, but we then shared a glance and nodded slightly, ready to put our plan into action - and praying that it would actually work.

“If you’re in the mood for apologies, come into the sitting room,” my wife said as she started to walk towards the room in question.

Papa quickly started to follow, though not without a quiet sigh, I noticed. “Lara, I really am sorry about yesterday. I didn’t mean for it to-” he began, only to stop dead in his tracks in the middle of the sitting room when he saw what we wanted him to see; Adele across the room and Uncle Nadir sitting on the sofa, looking just as baffled as his friend.

Papa’s jaw practically hit the floor at that point, and he and my uncle sat in stunned silence before Christine finally snapped him out of it as she patted his cheek. “Nonno?” she asked, clearly confused by her grandfather’s shift in moods.

Using the girl’s desire for attention to his advantage, Papa turned away from Uncle Nadir and focused on Christine, bouncing her in his arms. Both Lara and I caught onto what he was doing, so my wife quickly took Christine from him, much to my father’s dismay and confusion.

“If neither of you is going to say anything, we’re going to be here for a while,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. I was determined to ensure that those two left my home as friends and brothers and no less.

It was still silent for a while before Papa finally worked up the nerve to turn back to his friend. “Nadir, I...I’m not exactly sure what to say,” he quietly admitted.

“You being speechless is a rare thing indeed,” Uncle Nadir replied, managing a weak smile at the comment. As I looked at him, seeing him for the first time that day, I could tell that the fight had torn him apart just as it had Papa; his eyes were puffy and bloodshot, his hands the slightest bit shaky. He was exhausted and broken down by everything that had happened, which only told me that things needed to be fixed quickly.

“Hopefully that tells you something as to how I’m feeling about this entire ordeal,” Papa replied.

Uncle Nadir nodded. “I’ll be honest, I don't know where to start either, but I have a rough idea of where we need to end up.”

“Yes, I think I do as well.”

I was watching them both closely, but especially Papa; he had already shuffled a bit closer to Uncle Nadir and I knew that he wanted nothing more than to hug his friend tightly to make sure he wouldn’t disappear.

“I think we could start with the fact that I don't think either of us knows what happened to us last night,” Nadir said.

“No, I...I don't know what that was. That was a side of us that I haven’t seen in years,” Papa admitted.

“A part of us that I had long thought buried.”

Papa managed to crack a weak smile. “You would think that we’d learn, after all this time, that nothing truly stays buried.”

“Yes, perhaps we’ll manage to figure that out eventually.”

“But...but I think one thing we’ve learned rather unintentionally through this is that we come as a pair. No matter how hard we try we can’t seem to be rid of each other,” Papa said, finally making and maintaining eye contact with my uncle. I honestly hadn’t expected him to say so much, but I had no plans to stop him as he continued: “I know that I said a lot of things last night, but one thing, in particular, was wildly untrue: I do need you to protect me; to protect me from myself. I will be completely honest, Nadir, and say that I don't know how to exist without you in my life. I thought I lost you for one night and I nearly drowned myself in a bottle of whiskey. I don't care what I have to do to convince you that I’m sorry, I’ll do it all. Just promise me that you’re still going to be there when I’m done.”

His confession and the fact that he had been moved to tears while speaking had ended up making my own eyes fill with tears. I knew that he had probably rehearsed what he had wanted to say a hundred times over and that there was probably so much that he hadn’t said, and none of that knowledge made it easier for me to keep my composure. Thankfully, though, Lara seemed to have noticed my state and stepped over to wrap her arm around me, which I was grateful for as Uncle Nadir started to speak.

“You know I’m going to be there, Erik; I’m always going to be there. You don't have to do a thing to prove that you’re sorry because what you’re doing right now is more than enough; you actually said it, which means the world because I know how hard that can be with the life you’ve lived, but to know that you have deemed me worthy of hearing those words speaks volumes,” he said softly. “I am always going to protect you, you know that. You’re my brother, Erik; you are one of the few people that I have left and I cannot lose you. I have thought I was going to lose you too many items before, and I can’t lose someone who means so much to me. Not again.

“You weren’t the only one who almost drank themselves into oblivion last night; I did it too, Adele can attest to that. I hardly slept once she got me into bed, and I hate that this is happening because I can see how much it hurts her and that breaks my heart even more. But now that you’re here, saying these things, I know I”m never going to lose you and I couldn’t be more grateful for that because I don't know what I would do if I did.”

He was on his feet by then and had hardly finished speaking when Papa threw his arms around him to hug him impossibly tight, but I knew my uncle wasn’t complaining; the tears in his eyes and the tightness of his embrace told me all I needed to know.

I saw Papa squeeze Uncle Nadir even tighter than before if that were possible, and I realized that, in his sleep-deprived, hungover state, he was probably trying to convince himself that his friend was even real and truly had forgiven him. Knowing him, he had probably convinced himself that that was impossible.

Uncle Nadir seemed to catch onto that fact as well as he wrapped one arm tighter around Papa and rubbed his back with the opposite hand. “I’m right here, Erik,” I heard him quietly say.

They embraced for another moment before pulling apart, but Uncle Nadir grasped Papa’s arms, seemingly just to keep him close, but my eyes widened slightly when I noticed my father wince and inhale sharply. I knew that the last thing he wanted was for Uncle Nadir to discover what had happened the night before, but that was impossible to avoid now; if my wife’s quiet gasp meant that she had realized what had happened, then my uncle definitely had.

His wide eyes as he looked up at my father confirmed my suspicions; his grip on Papa’s wrists loosened immediately and an expression of concern washed over his face as he seemed to scan his friend’s face for answers, but Papa wasn’t even looking at him. Frankly, I didn’t think he could work up the nerve.

“I’m sorry,” Papa said quietly. That broke my heart; he sounded so crestfallen, so defeated about having to reveal his mistake to his closest friend. I wanted nothing more than to hug him, but I knew that he needed Uncle Nadir at that moment.

“Are you alright?” Uncle Nadir asked, determined to get the answers he wanted.

Papa hesitated to answer, I noticed. “They’ve been cleaned properly if that’s any consolation,” he eventually replied.

“A bit, yes. I just...oh, Erik, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Nadir, it’s really not.”

Uncle Nadir shook his head and reached up to turn Papa’s head so they could make eye contact again. “I let you believe that I wasn’t going to come back. I led you on in that argument instead of trying to cool you down, and I wasn’t honest with you in the first place. Of course I feel somewhat responsible,” he said softly.

“I shouldn’t be putting that weight on you. I think you were right; I suppose I don't know how to handle myself,” Papa said.

“This is a part of you that I have known about for years, since you were a man younger than Gustave is now. I should have known the risks of that fight and gotten over myself to help you.”

Papa sighed quietly and closed his eyes for a moment, and I knew he was thinking back to the event Uncle Nadir had just mentioned. I knew it hurt him to think about, but reflecting on it would only strengthen his resolve not to repeat it, that much was true.

“I think we can both agree that we regret that this ever happened,” he said as he opened his eyes again to look at his friend.

“Even more so now that I know what it’s done to you,” Uncle Nadir replied.

“Wounds heal. I’ve survived worse.”

“As true as that may be, you had gotten past this and me running my mouth made you relapse into an old, horrible habit. I am so sorry for that.”

Shaking his head, Papa reached out to set his hand on his friend’s arm. “No matter what you are telling yourself, this was not your doing. Quite honestly, you had a right to say some of the things you did and I should have been able to take it, but I took things this far and I cannot change that,” he said, only to sigh and drop his gaze to the floor again before quietly admitting, “These were my actions and I believe they would have taken place with or without what happened last night.”

That caught the attention of everyone in the room; Uncle Nadir frowned deeply as he watched Papa closely while Adele, who had come to stand next to us, exchanged confused glances with me and Lara. None of us knew what he meant, but frankly, all of us seemed afraid to inquire further.

“Why haven’t you said anything, Erik?” Uncle Nadir finally asked.

  
“I just didn’t want to worry everyone,” Papa said quietly. “That’s all I ever seem to do.”

With a sigh, Uncle Nadir set his hand to Papa’s unmasked cheek and brushed away a stray tear with the pad of his thumb. “This is more worrying than us finding out that you’re struggling, _barâdar_ ,” he replied, his voice soft, tone gentle. I wasn’t sure exactly what it meant - it was Persian, that I knew, - but whatever it was, it must have meant something to Papa, as another couple of tears fell from his eyes and he exhaled shakily. “You are our family, Erik, and we want to help you. Your wellbeing means so much to us, but we can’t help if you’re silent.”

“I learned that the hard way. Gustave scolded me about it earlier today,” Papa said quietly.

“Well, at least he got through to you. I just want to make sure you’re alright, Erik. I thought I’d lost you last night, and I don't know what I would have done if I did,” my uncle replied.

“I promise I’m not going anywhere as long as you promise not to leave either.”

“No, of course not. We need each other and that’s that.”

The pair hugged again at that and I wrapped an arm around my wife, both of us a bit teary-eyed as we watched the reunion that we had been praying for. We noticed them having a hushed conversation that we couldn’t quite hear, but there was something about the gentility of their voices compared to how harsh they had been the night before that was enough to evoke an emotional reaction in me, and I was crying quietly before I could stop myself.

My sniffling appeared to have been noticed, as both Papa and Uncle Nadir had turned their attention to me. “Why are you crying?” the latter inquired.

“Because I’ve never seen you two truly fight, not to mention what’s happened with Papa. This is a true first for me and it has scared the living daylights out of me. You two are part of the only family I really have and I don't want anything to break that apart. You two need each other and I need both of you,” I explained, only for my voice to break as a few tears fell onto my face.

Right away, Papa pulled me into his arms and hugged me tightly with Uncle Nadir quickly joining the embrace. “I’m sorry, Gustave. Everything’s fine now, we’ve made up. No need for tears, my boy,” he said.

“Yes, all is well, and your father is staying with me and Adele tonight. He’ll be okay,” Uncle Nadir added as he gently rubbed my back.

I nodded, relieved to hear both of those statements. “Don't do that again. No more fighting,” I said.

“You know, Reza said the same thing to us in our younger days,” Uncle Nadir replied with a breathy laugh. “We should have listened.”

“He was wise beyond his years,” Papa said.

“Indeed he was. To think we were too stupid to realize and take his advice to heart. He would be quite disappointed in us.”

“Yes, he would have scolded us long ago, but I believe we need it.”

After we spent another moment in our embrace, we pulled apart to see Adele smile slightly as she stepped towards us. “Erik, I do want to apologize for my part in this whole ordeal. I was the one who insisted on not telling you about my daughter and I am truly sorry for that,” she said.

Papa simply nodded as he waved her off a bit. “I appreciate the apology. I’m sure it wouldn’t have been an easy thing to tell me about, so I can see why you hesitated. I shouldn’t have exploded on you the way I did, that was unfair,” he replied.

“You were furious and for good reason. I can see why you did it, unfair or not.”

I expected a response from Papa - a verbal one, that is,- so I was shocked when instead, he took a step forward and hugged Adele. She looked just as surprised as I did, honestly.

“Erik...you’re hugging me?” she queried as she wrapped her arms around him. It was a tad amusing to watch; she had to stand on the tips of her toes to make up for their height difference.

“Yes I am, Adele,” Papa said simply, seeing no reason for confusion.

“I don't think we’ve ever done this before.”

“You get used to it,” Uncle Nadir said as he watched the pair with a fond smile.

Only a few minutes filled with comfortable chatter between us all had passed when there was a knock at the front door, and when Lara opened it, my in-laws stepped into the room, André following behind them. I tensed up slightly when I saw Philippe, but reminded myself that a much fiercer fight had just been resolved; if Papa and Uncle Nadir could solve their dispute, Philippe and I could do the same.

“I believe this might not be the best time,” Philippe said as he noticed who was standing in the room, then turned back to his daughter. “We can come back.”

“No, it’s alright, Father. We just sorted everything out, so it’s better that you came now and not five minutes ago,” Lara replied.

I was starting to get the impression that they weren’t visiting coincidentally. “What’s happening?” I asked with a slight frown.

“Father wanted to speak with you, Gustave. You two need to talk things out as well,” Lara said.

“Yes, of course. I just wasn’t expecting this,” I replied.

“That was the point. Your little plan for your father and uncle gave me the idea, so I set it up last night.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the cheeky grin on my wife’s face; she was clearly quite pleased with herself. “I don't know how I feel about you using my own plan against me. It’s a combination of pain and I respect, I must admit.”

“I did it because I love you and I want all of this to work out,” Lara said softly.

“I know you did, dear, and I appreciate it,” I replied as I pressed a kiss to her cheek.

Philippe approached me then and shook my hand, his lips pulled into a tight smile. “Gustave, I want to apologize to you again, even though I know I can’t possibly apologize enough. I never should have brought that gift, no matter how many times Raoul asked me,” he said.

“And I shouldn’t have blown off the hinges the way I did. It wasn’t right, I don't know what came over me,” I said in response.

“You had a right to. What I did was completely inconsiderate of your feelings and in total defiance of what you’ve told me in the past about your relationship with my brother,” Philippe replied. “I do hope you can forgive me.”

“You were only trying to do something kind for a man who doesn’t deserve it and I should have realized that, so there is nothing to forgive. I think we all have regrets about last night and we can put it behind us.”

Philippe nodded, then turned to Papa. “I extend those sentiments to you as well, Erik.”

“And I appreciate that. I believe all of us just want to put this entire issue to rest and I fully support that notion,” Papa said as he exchanged a handshake with my father-in-law before he turned his attention to Christine and practically demanded, “Now that I’ve played nice, I’d like to go back to holding my granddaughter.”

Lara laughed at him before passing Christine over, who was already reaching out to him. "Yes, now you can have her back since she isn’t a distraction to you and solving your problems anymore."

“I don’t know which I’m more offended by,” Papa said as he pretended to be shocked. “The fact that you would insinuate such a thing or the fact that you are completely right.”

"If you could just hold her instead of having any responsibility at all, you know very well that you would."

“She’s not wrong,” I pointed out.

"I never said she was. I was just about to agree with her." Papa had her perched on his hip by that point as if he’d done it his whole life. "Now you’re with Nonno, my little angel."

Christine replied with a babble that seemed to be happy given the grin on her little face. It was hard to think that his only experience with babies outside of Christine was with Lizzie and Jane’s son, William. Sometimes I forgot that he and I began our lives together when I was already ten years old. Though to be honest, some things were better left forgotten.

“I think you’re enjoying grandpa status a little too much there, my friend,” Uncle pointed out, though I didn’t believe there was a single soul in that room who would contest that.

"Am I not allowed to enjoy my status as a grandpa? What's so wrong with that?" Papa asked, smiling at my daughter and repeating the noises she was making.

I looked away for less than a second and the next thing I knew, I was hearing the sound of Papa’s mask hitting the floor. We all froze; one could hear a pin drop on the carpet with how quiet it was. I don't think Papa even fully registered what had happened until we had all fallen silent. I looked over to Philippe who was sitting on the couch and found that his eyes were like saucers. I could make out that André, who was sitting next to him, had mouthed the words “my god” but could not find the voice to say them aloud.

Nobody made a sound, which made Marguerite’s gasp all the more noticeable. I turned to Lara and saw that she was shooting daggers through her eyes at her mother. Papa didn’t seem to know what to do, but at the sound of that gasp, he winced hard and my heart sank.

“Gustave, can you take her for a moment, please?” His voice was cracking as he spoke. Without a word, I was at his side and taking Christine from his arms; she kept looking back at him, confused as to why she wasn’t holding her anymore.

I hadn’t heard him get up, but I saw André next to my father within moments, handing him his mask without a word.

He quickly put it back on and practically whispered, "I'm sorry about that."

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” André tried to reassure him, but it didn’t do much; he was still standing with me, but I could tell that that might have been the last straw for Papa being able to socialize today.

"Yes, of course there is. I had never intended for that to happen and it's never received well when it does happen." He kept adjusting his mask and pressing it more firmly to his face so that it would not come off again. I wished he wouldn’t do that; I knew how much it irritated his skin when it was pressed that tightly to his cheek.

Philippe stepped in as well at that: “Erik, it’s alright. You are alright.” He got up as well and tried to put his hand on Papa’s shoulder, but he jerked away.

"Please, don't feel that you have to say that, it's fine.” He kept inching back towards the door as he spoke. “I think I'm just going to get home now, but it was good to see you."

He kept glancing over my shoulder, I noticed, and when I looked back, I understood why he was so intent on leaving; Marguerite still looked completely horrified and had made no attempt to try and hide it. It made my blood boil and I could tell that Lara was just as upset as I was. Papa had been putting up a front for years to her torments and prying, but once she had actually seen him, she couldn’t handle it.

“No, please don’t leave,” I tried to plead with him. I didn’t want him alone again, too many negative outcomes were running through my head.

I looked at Lara with panic on my face and she tried to help me. “Erik, that’s not necessary,” she said quickly.

“Erik, no. Stay here, please,” Uncle Nadir said. Even he was trying his best, but it didn’t seem to be making any sort of difference.

"It's okay, really,” he insisted as he put his coat on and moved onto his shoes. “I need to get home and try to sleep off this headache anyways."

I didn’t think there was any hope of convincing him, so I simply said, “Please call me when you get home.”

Christine must have registered what was happening as she started squirming in my arms and calling to him. Papa looked back and his eyes softened; he could never bring himself to disappoint her, so he came back and made sure to say goodbye.

“I’ll come see you tomorrow, angel. But right now, Nonno needs to go home and sleep. You should sleep too; you look like you need it,” he whispered before he kissed the top of her head and turned to leave again, but it was then that she really started to throw a fit, though to be honest, I was actually grateful. I knew for a fact that my father could not say no to her, so it was a given that she would be able to get him to stay.

“Don't cry, my angel. I can stay for now, I suppose, but you have to stop crying,” Papa quietly said as he stepped back over and scooped her up.

Christine calmed down almost instantly once she was back in his arms and I couldn’t help but smile. Uncle clearly found it amusing as well as he let out a small laugh and said, “She has you around her little finger, Erik.”

“She does. I’m not sure what I’m going to do with her,” Papa replied as he gave her a little bounce on his hip to readjust himself.

“The only thing you can do; love her,” Adele chimed in. I could tell that the general consensus of the group had been to jump over the situation as if it had never happened.

“Well, that isn’t going to be difficult. It’s impossible not to love this little one.”

“It really is,” Philippe said. He had clearly joined in the unspoken plan and was standing next to Papa, playing with Christine as well.

It was then that she decided she was done with her Nonno and wanted her grandfather. "Gam-pa!" she exclaimed.

“I’m right here, sweetheart.”

"I think she wants you to hold her now, given that she's using my chest as leverage to get towards you." Papa was completely right; she could be quite the determined child when she wanted to be. It was clear that Lara and I were going to have our hands full, given that both of our personalities were combined in her.

Philippe let out a small laugh. “It truly looks like she’s trying to leap.”

"Yes, it does. So take her before she wiggles her way out of my arms," Papa said as he started attempting to pass her over.

Philippe took her and pulled her close so that he was cradling her. “With pleasure,” he said. She was just as happy in his arms as she had been in Papa’s and he too melted into her and began trying to tickle her and repeat the babbles she was saying.

My daughter was nothing if not fickle, though; the second her eyes locked on Papa again, she started calling for him. "Nonno," she said as she reached out for him.

"You want to come back? But you're with Grandpa now,” Papa said.

“Nonno,” she repeated. Her vocabulary may have been limited, but she definitely knew how to get what she wanted.

"Alright, come here." Once she was back with Papa, she started looking between him and Philippe, trying to figure out if she was going to change her mind again. At some point, though, she locked in on Lara and made that her mission instead.

“Mama,” she said as she reached for Lara, her little hands opening and closing trying to grab at her.

Papa started laughing and it felt like a wave washed over me; I could finally breathe again. “Looks like she wants neither of us,” he said.

"Yes, it seems she found the better option," Philippe said as he joined in the laughter. Christine, however, had a singular goal of getting to her mother as quickly as possible.

“Stop pouting, you two,” Lara said as she made her way over to them and took Christine from Papa’s arms. “She’s probably just hungry. Mother, if you’d like to join me in her room you are more than welcome.”

My heart stopped again. I knew that look on her face; that was the look she wore when someone was about to be in trouble. I remember getting that look when I was packing to leave for my assignment during the war.

"Yes, I think I'll take you up on that. Let's go,” Marguerite replied; clearly, she had no idea what she was in for. But I knew right away that the real reason she was so eager to go with Lara was that she didn’t want to be in the same room with Papa.

_**LARA** _

“What was that?” I demanded the moment my mother entered the nursery. I was absolutely stunned by her behaviour downstairs and I needed an explanation before I lost my mind. I put Christine in her crib and turned on her mobile to keep her distracted a few minutes longer. She didn’t really need to be fed; I had just needed to get my mother alone for a few minutes without anyone questioning it.

“You mean me reacting like a normal human being?” she scoffed at me. She truly had the audacity to think what she did was justifiable.

“Is that what you’re calling it?”

She seemed shocked at how upset I was. “Well, what else would you like me to refer to it as?”

“Perhaps an abhorrent slip in manners.”

“Lara, you can’t tell me you didn’t react similarly,” she tried to reason with me, which only made me exponentially more upset.

“No, actually, I didn’t because we were in the same broken place when I first saw his face. Not to mention that I am evidently more capable of keeping my social graces.” The fact that she still didn’t seem to understand her fault was exasperating. “What happened to the mother who taught me that everyone is created in God’s image and is therefore beautiful?”

“I would appreciate it if you watched how you spoke with me. You may be upset, but I am still your mother.” She really thought she had the right to be upset with how _I_ was behaving. As if she hadn’t made a scene where there needn’t have been one, causing Erik to almost leave.

“You may be my family, but he is just as important to me as you are, and if you are expecting me to turn my back on my father-in-law because you struggle to see the beauty underneath, you are sorely mistaken. If I recall, were you not the one ‘it couldn’t possibly be that bad’?” I couldn’t help but laugh thinking back to the first time that she had met Erik; she had insisted that he should take off his mask when he was clearly uncomfortable.

“How could I have known?” she asked. “But look at him; one cannot truly believe that it was solely God who had a hand in his creation.”

“You couldn’t have known. Even I didn’t. But I saw him as a person, something more. I saw the father of the man I love and someone who has cared for me ever since I set foot in his life. Another thing; I will not watch my language just because you are my mother. I will watch my tone for the sole purpose of my daughter being in the room with us. If anyone should be watching their language, it should be you.”

Mother took a step back; clearly, she had no idea how to respond to my statement, but it didn’t matter since I still had more to say: “I’m sorry if you feel you will not be able to associate with Erik now that you know who he is, but that will not put a damper on my relationship with him, and if that means you miss a family dinner because he’s there and you are uncomfortable, then that is how it must be.”

“You are choosing him over me. I cannot believe you would choose that man over your mother.” I knew what she was trying to do; she had tried to pull the same trick while Gustave was gone and she was pushing suitors on me, but I was done humouring her.

“Why wouldn’t I? All these years, he has done nothing but try and welcome you into his life. He was so scared when you first met. We comforted each other when Gustave got called away. He has helped me realize I have a gift that you tried to suppress in me for years. He told me I was strong when I felt worthless. I felt more at ease telling him about my miscarriages and not you!” There was so much more I could list off, but that was not the point of the conversation. “And what have you done to repay him for that?”

“Miscarriages? Lara, what are you talking about?” She went pale with shock, which made me realize that I had never told her about that until that moment.

“You heard me, Mother.” I calmed my tone slightly, understanding what I had done. “I had miscarriages - plural. I lost multiple babies before I finally carried and delivered Christine.”

She stayed silent for a long time - collecting her thoughts, I would imagine. “And you said nothing to your father and me?”

“I told Father, not you, because I knew he wouldn’t try to control my life. Still, Erik was there when my first one happened and I told him about every single one after that. Perhaps I felt better going to someone who would understand how broken I felt instead of someone who would simply take me to a doctor. And don’t say you wouldn’t have; I have heard you gossip for years about the women from your social groups who couldn’t have children. I have heard all the terrible names you called them,” I said as I wrapped my arms around my stomach, thinking about my afternoon in the gazebo with Erik. “He held me and told me that I was strong and that I was a warrior. And he was right; I am stronger because of it and I wouldn’t trade my daughter for anything.”

Mother didn’t know what to say and I didn’t expect her to, so she simply left. I didn’t want to go back downstairs yet so I knelt down to be level with Christine in her cot.

“It’s okay, baby girl. Mama is here,” I whispered as I put my hand in the crib. She latched onto my index finger and I felt a tear roll down my cheek. “I promise you’ll always be able to come to me. I know you don't understand that right now.”

I heard someone come in and I knew it was Gustave. He knelt down with me and pressed a kiss to my forehead, and I felt myself melt into him as he lingered there. He took my hand that wasn’t currently claimed by our daughter’s little hand and squeezed it tight, then, with his other hand, he also reached into the cot and let Christine grab onto him as well.

“I hate to fight with her, but I don't want your father to be treated like that. He’s dealt with so much,” I whispered.

“I’m proud of you for telling her how you feel, but you can’t keep pushing your family away for mine. I know that what she did was wrong. It hurts me too that this type of thing happens to him, but you can’t do that to your mother.” Gustave pulled me closer to the point where we were essentially hugging while each of us had a hand being held captive by Christine.

“I know we can’t keep fighting like this,” I said. I knew he was right, but that didn’t make me regret anything I told her. “I will apologize. I just...I want to make sure your father feels right at home in our family.”

“I know you do, but you know he’d hate being the motivator for you and your mother to fight.” I hated it when he made points that involved me having to move from a moment like that. I could have stayed with his arm around me on the floor for the rest of my life, but he was right and I couldn’t argue that. “Go talk to her. I can watch the baby.”

I nodded against his chest and moved my head up to look at him. “Yes, good idea. Thank you.”

“Always,” he replied before giving me a proper kiss and unwrapping my waist from his arm.

Once I was able to retrieve my finger from my daughter’s grip, I practically ran downstairs to find my mother in the kitchen with a kettle on the stove. “Mother,” I said quietly. She turned to look at me and I wasn’t sure what to do, so I simply closed the gap between us and hugged her tightly. “I”m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. I lost my temper.”

“And I should have been more willing to listen to you,” she replied as she let go of me and I was able to notice that Erik was standing in the doorway; he must have followed me when he saw me race by like I had. “I am sorry, I was insensitive. You shouldn’t have to hide who you are from us. We’re family.”

It took him a moment, but he quickly figured out what she was apologizing for. “All is forgiven, Madame. I have dealt with much worse than your immediate reaction. Let’s put it behind us, shall we?”

“Agreed,” Mother said as she held out an uneasy hand to him. They shook hands and I told Mother that I would handle the tea so she could go back to sitting with everyone else.

Once she was gone, Erik turned his attention to me. “My little warrior, as much as I know you are capable, I do not need you to fight my battles,” he said softly. I thought for a moment that he was going to scold me, but I was proven wrong when he wrapped me in a hug. “But thank you.”

“I told her, Erik,” I said as I felt yet another tear escape my eye.”I finally told her about the miscarriages.”

I felt his breath catch as he squeezed me tighter. “I’m proud of you, Lara. I know it can’t have been easy.”

“Thank you for being there.”

“An honour and a pleasure to help you, my dear.” He loosened his hug so I could properly look up at him, though his arms stayed wrapped around me. “I know you would do the same for me and a heartbeat, and you proved that today.”

* * *

**_NADIR_ **

I didn’t quite know why I had yet to pull myself away from my friend’s bedside. I had managed to get Erik to eat dinner and into bed after our eventful day at Gustave’s and I knew he had finally fallen asleep, but I couldn’t make myself move. I was still kicking myself for even letting him get to the state he was in and couldn’t draw my gaze away from either the dark circles under his eyes or the bandages wrapped around his wrists; it had been hard enough wrapping them again and having to see the damage he had done to himself. I knew I would be scolded if I said anything about it; everyone, including Erik, had already done so. I couldn’t help it, though; I had come too close to losing him far too many times to heed the advice everyone was giving me to stop worrying.

The quiet creak of the door didn’t turn my head away, but I did glance to my side when I felt my wife’s gentle touch on my shoulders.

“He’s asleep, love, and you should be too,” she said quietly, her fingers gently massaging my shoulders.

“As eventful as the past few hours have been, I must say I’m too worried to sleep at the moment,” I replied as I turned my attention back to my sleeping friend.

“Then why don't you at least come into the other room and sit with me?” Adele queried.

A fair suggestion, but not one that I was willing to take her up on. “I just don't want to leave him by himself, asleep or not. His mind isn’t kind to him, the nightmares will come. They always do.”

“I know, and we’ll be next door and hear him if they do. But that chair is going to destroy you if you sit in it all night.”

I sighed quietly as I carefully set my hand over Erik’s, making sure not to touch his bandages at all. “He hasn’t tried something like this in so long, Adele. I’ve always been nervous that he would, but it had been so long that I thought he had finally gotten past it,” I said. “Now, though, something I said has set him back so far.”

“You know very well that he doesn’t want you blaming yourself and neither do I,” Adele said as she slowly crouched next to my chair and rested her hand on my knee. “As you both expressed today, things were said last night and we all regret them, but the important thing is that we move past them.”

“God, why didn’t he say anything?” I wondered aloud, finally vocalizing the thought that had been plaguing my mind with no cares about the consequences I might reap. “He said this wasn’t a direct result of last night, but that was the tipping point. It’s been building and he bottled it up like always. He...he could have died last night.”

“And yes, that is a terrifying thought, but you saw him earlier today; he couldn’t even look you in the eyes as he apologized for having done this to himself. He wants to be better,” Adele said softly, glancing over at Erik and pulling the sheets over him a bit. “From my experience, if someone truly wants to die, nothing can stop them. He stopped himself from going too far, using what you have taught him throughout all those years. Many things could have happened last night, but I don't believe Erik leaving us would have been one of them.”

Another quiet sigh escaped me - they were rather unintentional at that point - and I looked from my wife to Erik, then leaned forward to gently smooth down his hair; that was a trick to keep him asleep that I had learned in Persia and used on his most restless night.

“I just don't want to lose him. It’s an absolutely terrifying thought to consider,” I said.

Feeling the touch of my wife’s hand against my cheek, I immediately leaned into it and looked back to her, waiting for the continued words of comfort that I knew were coming.

“And it is a thought that you don't have to think about anymore because he’s right here and he’s okay,” she said softly, attempting to comfort me with her smile, which was as warm and beautiful as ever, even in the dark.

“I think I’m still just in disbelief. I can’t believe this happened again,” I replied, lifting my hand to set it over hers.

“The thing that we should be focusing on is making sure that it doesn’t happen again. As much as we both want to, dear, we can’t change the past,” Adele said.

“I know. I want to so desperately, though. There’s so much I would change for him; he has so much now and he’s still so broken.”

“Then we can focus on making the rest of our lives - and his, by extension - the best it can possibly be.”

I nodded and glanced back over at my still-sleeping friend. “I really should just leave him to sleep, shouldn’t I?” I asked with yet another sigh.

My wife gave me a smile as she brushed her thumb against my cheek. “That is what I’ve been saying, yes. Come on, love, you look exhausted.”

“The exhaustion is starting to set in, I must admit,” I said as I gave Erik’s hand a gentle squeeze.

“That chair is going to hurt you, I’m telling you. Come sit somewhere more comfortable.”

“Let’s just go to our room. It’s only next door, I don't want to be too far away in case something happens.”

My wife nodded as she stood up and took my hands, then took her time helping me up; depending on the chair and the weather, it could be a rather slow process. She set the chair aside, then wrapped her arm around me as we walked towards the door. As we went, though, a quiet noise from my friend immediately made me stop and turn to face him prepared to deal with some sort of nightmare.

“He’s only dreaming, my love,” Adele said, gently rubbing my back.

I could tell that much just by looking at him; his reaction hadn’t grown more violent and he had simply rolled onto his side, his right cheek buried in the pillow as usual, and continued to sleep. Still, my own anxiousness and experience with his restless sleep weren’t about to allow me to be easily convinced of him being alright, moving me to ask, “Are you sure? What if something is wrong?”

“It would be a lot louder if something were wrong,” Adele pointed out.

“I...I know that. I’m just worried, I’m sorry,” I sighed.

My wife smiled, then pulled me down slightly to kiss me. “Don't apologize. I think it’s sweet.”

“I suppose you could call it that. I know I’m probably anxious over nothing, but I don't want anything to happen to him tonight.”

“And nothing will. He’s here, he’s asleep, and he’s safe.”

I nodded, taking her hand and squeezing it gently as a form of silent gratitude. “I know. Let’s just go to our room so I don't stand here and keep overthinking every little thing.”

I cast Erik one last glance before I walked out and made my way to my own bedroom, but my shoulder remained tense and raised to the point that they were essentially pressed against my jaw even once my friend was out of sight.

That seemingly did not go unnoticed by my wife, as she gently said, “Love, you need to take a deep breath. Erik is perfectly fine; he’s resting, his body is getting a chance to heal after what happened. He’s going to be okay.”

“Yes, you’re right,” I replied as I sat down on the edge of our bed and ran my fingers through my hair.

“You just have to keep reminding yourself of that,” my wife added as she sat beside me. “Nothing is going to happen to him. You’re helping by giving him a safe place to get better and that is going to do so much to help him.”

“Hopefully it will. I can’t just keep him here forever; he’s not a boy anymore, he doesn't need me to constantly take care of him.”

“No, and you are right to say that you cannot keep him here, but what you can do is be there for him when he needs you to be, just as you’ve done since he was a young man and needed you to be there for him as a father figure. You know that he sees you as his brother, and today, both of you said how much you need each other. As long as you stick close to him and help him when he needs you, everything will be just fine.”

I nodded and gave her a small smile as another form of silent thanks. “I hope so. As annoying as he can be, I don't know what I would do without him,” I said with a quiet laugh.

“Well, I think we got a good idea about that last night,” Adele pointed out.

“Yes, we certainly did,” I sighed. “I have to apologize again for letting you see that side of me; my temper, when it comes out, is not something I’m proud of.”

“We all have sides of ourselves that we aren’t proud of; I know that well,” my wife replied. “The more you suppress it, though, the more it will slip out, so it’s good to express it now and again. Besides, you were defending me; it was oddly romantic in a way.”

I laughed breathily. “At least I have that going for me.”

“That and much more,” Adele said as she leaned forward to kiss me.

I was smiling slightly as I pulled away; her kisses never failed to have that effect. “I’m glad to hear it. Still, defending you or not, I’m not glad that you heard me yelling like that. At Erik, of all people.”

“It’s water under the bridge, dear. I think we all agreed on that.”

“Yes, I know we did, and I’m glad about that, but I can tell by that look in your eyes that you’re wondering about some of the things we said, even now. That I said, more likely,” I remarked. She had the inquisitive glint in her eye that only ever appeared when she had unanswered questions, and I wasn’t surprised to see it there; things that had been said the night before involving subjects and people - one in particular - that I had never told her about.

“I will admit that a question or two are knocking around in my mind,” she admitted.

“Well, let’s get into bed, then. I want you to ask them and I will try to answer as best I can.”

With a nod and a kiss, Adele got up and walked to her side of the bed, the two of us sitting against the headboard in silence. I told myself not to be nervous - it was only my wife, after all, - but knowing what I could potentially have to discuss made it far from easy to relax.

“If you’re uncomfortable, we don't have to do this,” Adele said softly as her hand came to rest over mine and her fingers brushed over my ring.

Knowing my nervousness was palpable did nothing to lessen it, but I smothered it nonetheless: “No, I want to be honest with you about these kinds of things. We shouldn’t have secrets from each other.”

“As long as you’re comfortable.”

“Yes, I’m fine. Please tell me what you’re wondering.”

“What were all of those things you said about your son?” she inquired.

There it was - the obvious question about the obvious person that I had seen coming from a mile away, but that was inevitable when I never talked about him at all around my wife. So for a change, I resolved to finally come clean and explain my son’s story to her.

“Well, you know that my son was ill since he was young, but when Erik took up living with me, he and Reza got very, very close. He was Reza’s best friend,” I began.

“I’m glad he had someone in his life, but you’ve told me that before,” Adele pointed out.

“Yes, I know you’re familiar with that. But the new information...Reza’s illness hit a new low when he was about ten, and both Erik and I could see that he was suffering, so...Erik offered a way to end that suffering in a painless way,” I said, dropping my gaze to my lap as I fidgeted with my wedding ring. I was already feeling myself getting choked up and was determined to try to keep it together, as hard as I knew that would be, considering the events of the past two days.

“You’re not saying what I think you’re saying,” my wife said softly.

All I could do was nod, my tears barely being held back. I thought it would have gotten easier to tell the story over time, but I was wrong. So very wrong.

As soon as I felt Adele pull me into a tight embrace, the only thing that I could think to do was melt into it, soaking up the comfort she was offering that I had needed in my lowest, loneliest moments.

“I can only imagine how hard that was,” she whispered. “For both you and Erik, but for you especially.”

“It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done; giving him permission to walk into that room and end my son’s life. I know it just tore Erik apart to do it as well,” I said; I could still recall the strangled sobs I had heard from my friend’s room not long after Reza’s death, and that only made it harder to contain my own cries of grief. “Still, I had trusted him to do it because I couldn’t let my boy suffer anymore. I couldn’t watch it happen and do nothing.”

“You did the right thing, love. You have to know that.”

“I know I did, but that doesn’t make it any easier to think about the fact that I let it happen.”

Adele sighed quietly, leaning back just enough to set her hand to my cheek again. “I’m sure that he wouldn’t blame you for any of it,” she said.

“I like to think that he wouldn’t, but doubt and guilt are cruel things that tend to creep up on me now and again,” I replied.

“Then why don't you tell me about it when that happens, love?” Adele asked with a sigh. “We’re a team, but I can’t help if you don't tell me about what you’re feeling.”

I shrugged slightly. “I’ve hardly talked about it with anyone; only Erik and Gustave know, but I hardly even bring it up with Erik because I know how much it hurts him as well,” I explained. “Talking about it is an adjustment I need to make.”

“I’m glad you see that. Thank you for telling me, though. I know it must have been hard for you.”

“It was, yes, but I know I can trust you with things that are so personal and emotional.”

Adele smiled warmly. “I hope you can trust me with anything,” she said.

“Of course I can. I would trust you with my life,” I replied.

“Well, I pray that the need for that will never arise.”

“We’ll both pray for that. That would mean that I might have to leave you and I don't want to even consider that.”

My wife smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to my cheek. “Then don't. I’m always going to be here.”

“I hope so. I don't know what I would do without you,” I said softly as I pulled Adele onto my lap, my arms wrapped around her waist.

“And I don't care to find out,” she replied, only for a slight frown to form on her face as she set her hand on my chest; questions were coming again, I could feel it.

“But, dear, I have to ask: Was there something else connected to what was said yesterday that contributed to last night being so difficult for you? I know you, and you don't just spiral as fast and as hard as you did last night for just one reason.”

I immediately had to fight back tears as an answer to her question formed in my mind right away, though I had been hoping to avoid the topic altogether. Still, I had promised myself that I would be honest with her, so that was what I would be.

“Yesterday was a difficult day as a whole, I won’t deny that, and I really thought that he would remember that before talking about trust,” I said, as vague as that answer may have been.

“What was it about yesterday, Nadir? Please tell me, my love,” Adele prompted as she gently ran her hand over my chest.

I took a deep, shaky breath and looked down at my lap when I lost the battle against my emotions and tears filled my eyes. “Reza...my baby boy,” I whispered.

The quiet gasp told me that she had put the pieces together. “Oh my goodness...the anniversary was yesterday?” she asked.

All I could do was nod at first. “It’s been 41 years, but it still feels like I was only just holding him.”

“Oh, Nadir, I’m so sorry,” Adele replied as she hugged me tightly. “I wish I had known so I could have helped you.”

“I don't like to talk about it with anyone. Not even Erik,” I said.

“Now that you’ve told me the story, I can understand why, but you shouldn’t have to grieve alone, dearest.”

That was my tipping point; I buried my face in her shoulder just as my tears overflowed and a strangled sob slipped out of me. I hadn’t wanted to cry the day before, on the day of the anniversary itself, but that only made me more irritable and cold than I already had been after the fight with Erik. I felt awful about it, but when Adele pulled me closer and cradled my head to her shoulder while I finally expressed my grief and heartache, I knew that no grudge of any sort would be held.

“I’m so sorry, my love. I can’t even begin to imagine how much you must miss him,” Adele said a few minutes later, only speaking once I had managed to catch my breath somewhat and slow down my tears.

“H-he never got to know the world,” I hiccuped, my head still nuzzled in the crook of her neck.

“I know, and he deserved so much more,” she replied. “That child did not deserve the pain that he knew.”

I shook my head as I reached up and wiped my cheeks with the sleeve of my nightshirt. “He was always so happy, though. I suppose it was because he didn’t understand.”

“No, I don't think he could have known the true gravity of the situation,” Adele said softly as she gently ran her fingers through my hair.

“He always looked so sad when we saw a doctor.”

“I would think so. I’m sorry, my love; I can only imagine having to be there to see that was brutal.”

I nodded as I finally lifted my head off of my shoulder. “He found the good in everything, though,” I said, sniffling quietly.

“Well, of course. He learned that from you,” Adele replied with a warm smile.

A laugh of disbelief slipped out of me before I could stop it. “I really don't see how that’s true. I dealt with the ugliness of the world.”

“Perhaps, but you did it and still smiled for your little boy. That’s how he learned to deal with all that he struggled with, I do not doubt it.”

I gave her a small smile, only to sigh as I raised my hand to wipe away a few more stray tears that had slipped down my cheeks. “I’ve cried so much over the years. You would think I would have no tears left to cry,” I said.

“He’s your son, Nadir; losing your baby hurts like nothing else,” Adele sighed. “Tears don't run out after something like that, I’m afraid.”

“I wish they would. I know he wouldn’t want me to cry.”

“He wouldn’t, but I don't believe he would want you to be in pain because you hold back every tear on his behalf.”

“When the feelings are so overwhelming, tell me, darling,” Adele replied, cupping my face in her hands. “Let your tears fall and I will be right there to hold you and to wipe them away.”

I gave her a smile, reflecting on what I had supposedly done to deserve her. “What would I do without you?” I queried.

“You needn’t consider that because I’m here. You have me and I'm not going anywhere.”

“I love you,” I whispered as I leaned forward to kiss her. “I’m so glad that I have you. If I didn’t, I know things would not have gone well last night. Thank you for pulling the whiskey bottle away from me.”

“Well, you’re welcome. I just have to laugh at how similar you and Erik are, my dear. It’s quite funny,” she replied with a quiet laugh.

“It is ridiculous, isn’t it? He’s rubbed off on me and I hate it.”

“Maybe you’re the one who’s rubbed off on him. The lines are rather blurry.”

I shook my head with a quiet chuckle. “I don't know about that,” I replied. “He is a stubborn man that doesn’t change for many people. Not even for me.”

“You’re both stubborn,” Adele said simply.

“Yes, not my best feature.”

“I don't mind it all that much.”

I raised my brow, slightly surprised at that statement. “No?” And why not? I don't think it’s all that desirable as a quality,” I said.

“It’s a part of what makes you who you are and I wouldn’t have you any other way,” Adele replied.

“You’re too kind, you know. You can say that it annoys you, I won’t be offended,” I chuckled.

“I love every bit of you, always and forever. I promise,” Adele whispered just before she pulled me into a kiss.

As distracting as the feeling of her lips pressed to and moving against my own may have been, it wasn’t enough to keep me oblivious to the sound of my friend calling my name from down the hall. I quickly pulled away from my wife and looked from the door to her, but a word wasn’t needed to get her to move off of my lap so I could rush out of the room.

Hurrying into the guest room, I found Erik sitting up in bed, awake, but clearly shaken and confused, if his frantic head movements and elevated breathing were any indications.

“Just look at me, Erik, you’re okay,” I said softly as I stepped over to his bedside and ever so gently set my hand on his shoulder, holding it steady when he flinched and turned to me.

“Are...are you real?” he asked, finally managing to start to steady his breathing.

“Yes, of course. I’m right here, Erik,” I replied.

He frowned and scanned the room again. “Where am I? We...were outside, this isn’t right. You were angry, you were leaving, I couldn’t catch up to you.”

“You’re at my home, Erik, in my guest room. I wanted you to stay with us tonight after what happened yesterday,” I explained as I sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m not mad at you, it’s alright. You had a dream.”

“A dream?” Erik repeated.

“Yes, that’s all it was. We had argued a bit, but we made up earlier today, remember? Everything’s alright, I’m not angry with you.”

He nodded silently, then glanced down and caught sight of his bandaged wrists, which seemed to make everything click in his mind. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered as he looked up at me again.

“No, don’t apologize, Erik, please,” I said with a shake of my head.

“But I should. I said so many terrible things, to you and your wife.”

“And you already apologized for them. You have said that you’re sorry and I accepted your apology. You were angry and said things you didn’t mean, but so did I. We both made mistakes.”

Erik sighed quietly as he started fiddling with his wedding band. “You swear that you aren’t mad at me? I know I would still be mad if someone did what I did to me, he said quietly, his gaze dropping to his lap again.

If anyone else had heard that question, they would have that it a childish inquiry for a man of Erik’s age and intellect. I, on the other hand, knew that that question was born out of years of being abandoned by the ones he loved and being given false hope by those he thought might stay. I knew it wasn’t childish; it was born out of a desire to protect his fragile heart that had been broken far too many times.

“Erik, I swear that I am not upset with you. It’s okay, I promise,” I replied as I reached over to hold his face in my hands to ensure he was looking at me. “You don't have to worry.”

“Okay,” he whispered, giving me a weak smile. “I shouldn’t have woken you up. You’re probably tired too.”

“I am more worried about making sure that you’re okay,” I said, vouching not to tell him that I had yet to actually fall asleep. “I can always sleep in tomorrow morning, so please don't apologize for something that you cannot control.”

With another nod, Erik reached over and set his hand on my knee. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not giving up on me. A lot of people have in the past,” he explained. “I just don't think I say it often enough, but I am eternally grateful for the fact that you are still here.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Erik. You were my family when I had none, and you were beside me at one of the hardest points in my life when I lost my son,” I replied, giving his hand a squeeze when I saw his eyes start to fill with tears. “I will never be able to express to you how much it means to me to have you in my life.”

I hadn’t expected him to lean forward and hug me, but once he had, I wasn’t going to reject it; we didn’t do it very often, and I knew that, in his present state, he needed it.

“I believe we should both try and sleep,” I said a few moments later, patting his back before I pulled away from our embrace.

“I will make an attempt. You should go back to bed with your wife, I’ll be fine,” Erik replied.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure, I can manage on my own. If I need something, I know where your room is and I know my way around the house. I’ll be okay.”

I nodded as I got to my feet again. “Alright. Good night then, Erik,” I said.

“Good night, Nadir. And thank you...for everything,” he said softly.

“It’s been a pleasure,” I replied, giving him a small smile before I stepped out of the room to walk back to my own.

My throat was tighter than I had expected as I reached my bedroom and laid down next to my wife in silence. I hadn’t thought my emotions would bubble over again, but something about seeing how frightened Erik had been about losing me made it hard to keep my composure.

“Are you alright, love?” Adele asked after a moment, shuffling over to my side and setting her head against my shoulder.

“I will be,” I replied.

“Are you sure? You look a bit upset.”

“I am, but I’m taking the advice of someone that I love very much. She told me that I can’t change the past, but I can help to make things better moving forward.”

Adele smiled. “Well, I’m glad to hear that. Whoever she is, she seems to know what she’s talking about,” she said with a quiet laugh that bordered on being a giggle.

“She always does,” I replied, chuckling to myself as I leaned over to kiss her.

“Everything will be okay, my love. I know you know that, but I figured I would reiterate it to be absolutely certain.”

“You truly are the greatest, you know.”

“Well, thank you. That’s very sweet.”

“Thank you for putting up with both me and him. I feel I should have warned you that he and I come as a package before we got married,” I said, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face.

She simply waved me off. “Oh, I figured that out quite early in our courtship. I don't mind it; Erik has been a part of my life for a while now, so the little struggles and quirks that come with him are nothing new,” she replied. “It was only your pesky little nuances and things that I had to get used to.”

“Oh, really? And what would those be?” I asked with a quiet laugh.

“Well, you have a nasty habit of coming in from the yard and leaving your shoes on, which just tracks mud in the house and drives me slightly mad. You snore more than I care to admit, and I will be honest, kisses with the beard in the way were an adjustment.”

I hadn’t been expecting a list, to be quite honest. “Would you rather I shaved?” I proposed.

“I don't know if I could get used to you without a beard,” Adele said, studying my face as she ran her fingers along and through my beard. “But you would really do that if I asked?”

“I would do just about anything for you, you know that,” I said softly.

“What do you mean ‘just about’? What’s the exception?”

“Anything beyond my moral standards, which are just a bit stricter than Erik’s.”

“Ah, I see. Well, I wouldn’t ask you to do anything beyond that, so we shouldn’t run into a problem.”

“Thank goodness for that,” I replied, smiling as I draped my arm over her waist and pulled her closer to me.

Adele smiled back and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “You shaving your beard, however, is a different matter. The kisses wouldn’t tickle as much, but I have a feeling I would miss it,” she said.

“So I will assume that the verdict is to keep it?” I asked.

“It is, yes. I can tolerate the tickling, I suppose,” she said with a nonchalant shrug.

“I can only imagine the struggle.”

“Yes, it really is a struggle. I have to try and get past it _every_ time I kiss you.”

“Well, I suppose you’ll have to bear with me or stop kissing me. Your choice,” I chuckled as I gave her another kiss.

She smiled at me when we parted. “It won’t be the latter, so yes, I suppose I’ll have to deal with it. Still, I doubt it will be that much of an issue. You’re quite a good kisser, as I’ve mentioned before.”

“The same goes for you, dear.”

Our lips met again at that, but even as I pulled her closer and she draped her arms around my neck, I still broke away and glanced at the door.

“Perhaps I should check on Erik just one more time,” I said as I started to try and get up, only to stop when Adele held me in place.

“I’m sure he’s fine, love. Try not to worry,” she said softly.

I sighed and relaxed enough to rest my head on her shoulder. “I know. I’m anxious, I know. Just...now that he’s already woken up, I’m a bit more on edge than before.”

“And if he wakes up again, I know you’ll be there, but tensing up at the thought of him waking up won’t do either of you any good.”

“Yes, you’re right. Of course you are, but...he looked like such a mess, Adele,” I said quietly. “Between everything last night, what with the fight and him harming himself, and what happened today with his mask coming off, I can tell it’s hit him hard.”

“I didn’t know he’d never shown them. I wasn’t expecting Lara’s mother to react the way she did, though,” my wife replied.

I rolled my eyes, the simple mention of Marguerite managing to annoy me. “I’m not surprised that she did; she doesn’t have the best discretion when it comes to that sort of thing, it seems. The first time they met, she questioned him about it. If I recall correctly, I believe she insisted it ‘couldn’t possibly be that bad.’”

“What a hypocrite.”

“Yes, that would be the word I would use to describe her as well. Erik has never been all that fond of her, especially after that first introduction, but he plays nice for Gustave, Lara, and Philippe.”

“I don't think I’d be able to hold my tongue around her if we interacted more regularly,” Adele sighed.

“That’s the best part - Lara doesn’t,” I replied. “She has no patience for any of it.”

Adele nodded firmly. “Good. Better to be told off by her daughter than by someone she hardly knows like me. I certainly would if I could; Erik has been through far too much. He doesn’t deserve more grief at the hand of the parents of his daughter-in-law.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“At least he has plenty of joy in his life to help him balance it out. The smile on his face when he’s with Christine is so sweet,” Adele said.

“That baby has him in the palm of her hand,” I chuckled. “God help him when she gets older.”

“If he can’t say no to her now, he’ll never be able to. He isn’t able to deny Elizabeth anything, never mind his granddaughter.”

That was certainly undeniable; Erik had adored his goddaughter since she was a newborn baby and he had conquered his anxiety about holding her. I had seen the look of adoration in his eyes then, and I had seen the exact same look, only increased tenfold, on the day he had held his granddaughter for the first time. For years, he had protested the thought of having any children in his life at all, too afraid of his own inexperience to want to risk raising a child. Now that he had a son and two little girls in his life, though, I knew he would never give it up.

“There’s no hope for him. He’s a goner,” I said with a chuckle.

“Most definitely. He loves her so much, though, it’s sweet to see,” Adele chuckled.

“It really is, yes.”

“Oh, do you happen to know where his title of Nonno came from? I know it’s Italian, but I can’t say that I have an idea as to why he got Christine to call him that,” my wife said. “I meant to ask him earlier, but it slipped my mind.”

I thought to myself for a moment, trying to think of any details I knew of Erik’s life in Italy that would point to an answer. “He’s never explained it to me either. It’s from his time in Italy, which is where he learned Italian in the first place. I don't know much, but I do know that he became very close with the man he stayed with, Giovanni. He went so far as to call him Father once or twice.”

“So there is a lot that you still don't know, even with your years together?” Adele inquired.

“He continues to surprise me, yes.”

“It seems like it. Still, whether the origins are known or not, it’s a sweet little title.”

I nodded, unable to disagree with the statement, especially when I knew how happy it made my friend. “It suits him. Eventually, once she can pronounce more words, I do hope I’ll get some form of a nickname,” I said with a smile.

“Oh, but you already do, love. You’re Deer, remember?”

“Ah, yes. How could I forget?” I asked, laughing quietly as I thought back on Christine’s best efforts to say my name. “I wish you hadn’t heard that you know.”

My wife simply laughed and kissed my cheek. “I love it,” she replied. “But I’m sure you’ll get a true nickname in due time. She can’t even pronounce Grandpa quite right yet when she refers to Philippe, so you’ll have to be patient, my love.”

“And there is nothing wrong with that because we have time. All the time in the world,” I said softly as I pulled my wife into a kiss, feeling safe and secure in her arms knowing that everything in my life had finally fallen back into place. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so so so sooooo sorry that it's been so long! my co-author and i split up this chapter because it's so long, and she was dealing with some medical stuff (not COVID, don't worry) that made typing and writing difficult, so that on top of school for both of us made it hard to find time to write. but here it is! we really hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> this is the second-to-last chapter, unbelievably!! the epilogue will be along very soon; it's already half-written. thank you so much for sticking with us on this journey!


	36. Epilogue (Figuring It Out)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> even after all these years together, there will always be new things to figure out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: reference to self-harm 
> 
> so this is it! the epilogue! it really is unbelievable to think that we've reached this point. my co-author and i started writing this story in February of 2019 after we had made a joke to each other about erik as a single father post-LND, and now, here we are with a fully completed story and an absolutely incredible group of readers. thank you so so so much for supporting us on this journey that we've been on; hearing that you've all fallen in love with our interpretations of the characters from the musical/book is so awesome, and the fact that you all love our OCs just as much as we do means so much to us. it's a really bittersweet experience that we're here and emotions are definitely running high because this story is our brain baby and we adore it so much, but we've had so much fun writing this. thank you all for your love and support; we appreciate it more than you know. and since you all love these characters just as much as we do, don't worry; this isn't the last you'll see of them <3 - nerdywriter36

**_JANUARY 1923_ **

**_ERIK_ **

"Erik, you've made this dish before, I don't see why you feel the need to have me here watching you," Nadir said from where he was leaning against the counter and watching me cook. 

"If you haven't realized yet, you are the Persian person here, hence why I want your opinion why I am cooking a Persian meal," I replied with a roll of my eyes; I couldn't see why he was pretending not to understand my wish for him to be present. "Besides, I haven't made this for a while, I'm out of practice." 

My friend laughed to himself. "You are not. You pay a ridiculous amount of attention to the most minute details, this is going to be fine. It smells very good if that's any consolation. Not to mention that you know how to tweak it slightly to fit our friends' European palettes." 

"Well, this isn't particularly spicy, to begin with - I made sure to pick a recipe that wasn't, especially with Lizzie - but I didn't think any of them had had much interaction with turmeric and all the other various Persian spices, so I figured I would play it safe, even if they are missing out on spices other than salt." 

"You raise a good point, my friend, but playing it safe is wise."

I laughed quietly at the commentary on our companions' limited spice range before I checked my watch and quickly confirmed that the chicken I was making had finished cooking. "Okay, taste that and then the salad while I fluff this rice so you can taste that too," I instructed." 

My friend nodded, grabbed a fork, and made quick work of tasting the various parts of the meal. "It's very good, Erik. Put a little more lime juice on the chicken and you'll be set," he replied. 

"More lime, okay," I said, quickly picking up the little green fruit and squeezing it over the pan with the chicken before setting a lid over it to keep it warm just as I heard the front door open. I smiled right away at the sound, knowing exactly how it was; Maddie, Charles, and Lizzie had finally returned from the English countryside. They hadn't intended to be gone eight full months, that much I knew for certain - Charles had missed the first months of the school year with his new students as a result, which I knew he hated, - but within a couple of months of their arrival, Maddie's mother had succumbed to her illness. So between the grieving process, the funeral arrangements and legal matters, as well as supporting her father, their stay continued to be extended. I understood why, but I was still thrilled to finally have my closest friends and my goddaughter back home. 

I quickly wiped my hands off on a dishcloth before I walked out to the foyer to greet them. "Hello, you three. It's so good to see you all," I said, smiling wide when I saw Lizzie shoot me a grin before starting to hurriedly take off her shoes. "I've missed having you here." 

"Yes, good, where's the baby?" Maddie asked. "It is lovely to see you, really, but I want to see the little princess." 

I rolled my eyes playfully as she pushed past me in search of my granddaughter. I wasn't the slightest bit offended; she hadn't seen Christine, who was already eight months old, since only a few days after her birth. She had every right to be as excited as she was, but that didn't mean I was going to let it go without a bit of a fight. 

"A baby in the house and your best friend no longer matters. Fine then," I said as I stepped out of the foyer to look into the sitting room, smiling when I saw Maddie on the sofa with Christine in her arms, tickling the little girl's side to make her giggle. That baby was practically a granddaughter to her, given how close she was to Gustave, so I wasn't surprised to see how drawn she was to Christine. 

"Oh, leave me be. I see you all the time and you don't change; I haven't seen her since she was born," Maddie replied, not even looking away from the baby as she spoke. 

I laughed quietly, turning my head when I felt little arms wrap around my leg and smiling when I saw my goddaughter looking up at me. "Hello, princess," I said as I scooped her up to hug her tightly. "I've missed you so much." 

"I missed you too, Uncle Erik,'" she giggled, wrapping her arms around my neck. "Did you like the pictures I sent in the mail?" 

"I loved them. I put my favourites up on the wall in my study," I said as I kissed her cheek. "But I much prefer getting pictures from you in person now that you're home." 

"I wanted to come back sooner, but then Nana died," Lizzie said softly as she rested her head on my shoulder. 

I sighed, gently rubbing her back. "I know, I heard. I'm so sorry," I replied, turning to Charles and shaking his hand to greet him. "It's good to see you again, my friend, though I know the trip was extended for good reason. How has your wife been?" 

"She's doing better now. It was hard when her mother was so ill and then passed, of course, but being there with her father helped a lot," Charles said with a nod. "But she's been much better these past couple of months, even more so now that we're home." 

"Good, I'm glad. Was the trip nice besides the obvious?" 

"Once things settled down, it was, yes. The little village where Jacob lives is so quaint and peaceful; Bishopstone, it's called, right near the coast. It was a nice place to just sit outside and get my lesson plans ready for the new school year, as a matter of fact. I think you'd like it quite a bit." 

"Well, perhaps I'll have to visit with you all some time and see it for myself," I said. "Now, why don't you go meet little Christine? Your letters gave me the impression that you were quite eager to finally do so." 

"Oh, certainly," Charles replied as he shot me a smile before he stepped over to sit with his wife, Gustave, and Lara to meet my granddaughter, having not been able to do so before he and his family had travelled. 

I turned my attention back to Lizzie a moment later when I felt her gently poking my shoulder. "Uncle Erik, why is Christine still so small? Daddy said we were going to play," she said softly. 

"She's only a baby, Lizzie, just eight months old; she hasn't even learned to walk yet," I explained. "Once she gets a bit bigger and can walk and talk a bit more, you two will play together all the time, I'm sure of it." 

"Oh. Okay," she replied, a satisfied smile on her face as she looked back at Christine. "She's cute." 

"She is. Just like you." 

Giggling away as I set her on her feet, she ran over to the sofa to say hello to Gustave while her mother finally passed Christine to her husband and came over to me, her arms outstretched for a hug. 

"Oh no, don't give me hugs after you avoided me. I'm not important anymore," I teased as I stepped to the side. "I have other friends, it's fine. I have Nadir." 

"No you don't," my friend called from the kitchen. 

I smirked when I heard him yelp a moment later, knowing Adele had given him a smack for his comment. "Until one of us dies, you're stuck with me," I retorted. 

While I was distracted by our banter, Maddie got her hug, wrapping her arms around my waist. "You know I missed you," she said with a laugh as she looked up at me. "And Christine isn't the only one who's changed quite a bit around here; you look like a proper silver fox now. Enjoying the full scope of being a grandpa, are you?" 

"I suppose you could say that, yes," I said, chuckling as I ran a hand over my new grey hairpiece. "And it's Nonno, actually. Someone told me years ago that my grandchild would call me that one day, so I'm sticking with it." 

"Well, I think you look very handsome, for one, and I love that title. It suits you, as does the grey," Maddie replied, smiling at me. "Now, is dinner ready? It certainly smells like it is." 

"It is, yes, so let's go sit down. We have lots of catching up to do." 

* * *

"Dinner was wonderful, Erik. I never would have thought you would have a meal like this in your repertoire, but I stand corrected," Maddie said as dinner came to a close. "You'll have to make Persian food more often. Nadir has taught you well, it seems." 

I smiled proudly as I looked around at the clean plates in front of everyone. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. I did indeed learn from the best, I must say," I replied with a gesture to my best friend. 

"And I learned from the best in my life as well," Nadir said. "My cooking doesn't hold a candle to my wife's or my mother's. I just imparted the knowledge I did have onto Erik and he ran with it, as he does with everything else." 

"And run with it he has," Adele added, turning to Maddie and Charles. "Erik has been trying his hand at quite a lot of Persia food lately. Almost all of it has been lovely, so now you'll be able to enjoy it with the rest of us." 

"Almost all of it?" Charles repeated with a laugh. 

"There have been some duds along the way," I admitted. "But cooking is all trial and error, as your wife has taught me." 

Maddie smiled as she looked at me. "I'm glad you've learned that," she said. "But it seems we've missed quite a bit while we've been away; Christine has grown so much, Erik's gone grey and he's cooking new foods. Did we miss any more excitement that you can fill us in on?" 

Nadir, Adele, and I quickly exchanged glances, the same answer undoubtedly coming to all of our minds, and I knew that if Gustave and Lara were with us at the table rather than tending to Christine, they would have been on the same page. I didn't want to tell them; the last thing I wanted to do was reveal the fight that Nadir and I had had while they had been away, but I knew that nothing good would come of not telling them. So I convinced myself to clue them in, resolving to only hide the information about how low I had sunk and the new scars on my wrists. 

"Excitement is one word to use. You didn't miss much; Christine said 'Mama' as well as a few other words, Jane had another baby in November - a little girl named Marielle, - and little William has grown up so much," I reported, toying with my wedding ring while I spoke. "As for what happened with us specifically...it was eventful, to say the least." 

"And why do you say that?" Charles asked with a bit of a laugh, clearly not expecting anything serious. 

I still hesitated to reply despite my resolve to do just that, so Nadir spoke up instead: "Erik and I had a fight. All is well now, quite clearly, but it happened while you were gone." 

"You two fought? You never fight, what on earth caused it?" Maddie asked with a frown. 

"It's a bit of a long story, but I'll try to sum it up," I said as I tried to piece together the details of the night that I avoided reliving whenever possible. "Philippe and Marguerite had dropped by Gustave and Lara's home to visit them and Christine, but with Philippe came an unwanted gift from his brother and his new wife, Meg Giry, and yes, when I say Giry, I mean the daughter of our lovely Adele. To put it simply, Gustave is far from fond of either of those two; the Vicomte for obvious reasons and Meg in connection to what happened to his mother. Gustave was furious with Philippe, as was I, but I took out the brunt of my anger on Nadir because he knew that they had gotten married and hadn't said a word to me, despite knowing who was involved and Meg technically being his stepdaughter. The two of us had it out with each other, Nadir left in a huff and that was that." 

Charles and Maddie looked nothing less than shocked, but I understood why; they knew me and Nadir as best friends who bickered, not a pair that had vicious screaming matches. 

"What happened after that?" Charles inquired quietly. 

Yet again I hesitated because the only answer coming to my mind was what I had done to myself late that night in a drunken, depressed fog. I hated thinking about it, but still found it plaguing my mind whenever I saw my bare arms; the other scars there, whether it was the ones from breaking the mirror as a boy, from other mistreatments over the course of my life, or from similar experiences when I had made attempts on my life, the ones that appeared as a result of that night stood out every single time. 

I must have been silent for longer than I thought, too busy running my fingers along my forearms over the exact spots where the scars lay beneath my shirtsleeves - I knew their exact path; I had traced them enough times on quiet nights alone in my room not to, - because I felt Nadir set his hand over mine before he spoke up again: "The two of us went to our respective homes, recognized we were stupid, but were too caught up in our own emotions to admit it, so Gustave and Lara tricked us into being in one room. We made up, we hugged, all was well." 

"Oh, I'm glad. I don't know what the rest of us would have done if you had kept fighting; I hate choosing sides in arguments, never mind in a fight between two of my closest friends in the world," Maddie said as she gave me and Nadir a smile. 

"Believe me, we're glad that you weren't there to see it; it wasn't a shining moment for either of us," I replied, taking a deep breath and returning her smile. "But now you've heard about us, so what about? How was your trip? Besides the obvious unfortunate part of it, of course." 

"Oh, yes, besides that, it was very nice. I got to talk with my father more than I have in quite some time, and I learned much about my family history while we were there," Maddie replied with a nod, setting her napkin on her plate. "Apparently, I'm named after my great-aunt Madeleine, who lived in France." 

That statement piqued my interest, considering my own mother's name and birthplace, but I was quick to brush it off as yet another coincidental similarity between Maddie and my mother and kept listening to the story instead. 

"But your family didn't know her all that well, right?" Charles asked. "I thought I heard your father mention that, but I could be wrong." 

"No, that's right; my father knew her - she was his aunt, after all, and they were very close, - as did my mother, since she and her husband would come to visit quite often, but the rest of my family, not so much. Apparently, she was very distant after the death of her husband and kept to herself in her little town in France. She had a young son to raise, after all." 

It was then that my heart seemed to stop. It wasn't a coincidence...I had gotten past the name they shared and the moments when I thought they looked vaguely similar, thinking it was all purely by chance, but all of that was being thrown out the window with every word that my friend said. 

"Do you, by any chance, know where she lived in France?" I asked, needing to confirm my suspicions. 

"Oh, some little town not far from the northern coast. It had a French name that I'll probably butcher," Maddie replied with a laugh. 

"Try your best." I knew my tone was serious, but there was no other way to be in any area where my mother was or may have been concerned. 

"Erik, what's wrong?" Charles inquired. "Why are you so serious all of a sudden?" 

"Just say it, Maddie," I insisted. 

She was still frowning slightly about my reaction but thought to herself for a moment before replying: "Saint Martin de...oh, something like that. The last word started with a 'B,' that's all I can say about that." 

"My god..." I whispered, my eyes wide as my suspicions were confirmed. Her pronunciation of the French words may not have been perfect by any means, but I knew what she was referring to and it almost made me slightly nauseous. 

"Her husband, you...you said he died, but do you know his name?" I added once I managed to settle my nerves for the moment. 

"I believe my father called him Charles. That seemed to check out, given the initials on some of his handkerchiefs at Father's house were 'C.D.'," Maddie replied. 

"Erik...you're pale. Are you alright?" I heard Adele ask as she set a hand on my shoulder. 

I could tell from her tone that she was concerned, so I managed to find the words to explain despite my mouth being as dry as a desert and my tongue feeling like it was made of lead: "I'm alright, yes. I'm just trying to process the fact that Maddie and I are seemingly related." 

There were quiet gasps all around the table, though, not surprisingly, the sharpest one came from Maddie. "What?!" she exclaimed. 

"Your great-aunt was from Saint-Martin-de-Boscherville; she's my mother! Charles Destler - the man that those handkerchiefs belonged to - was my father!" I quickly explained. "That makes us cousins!" 

"My god, Erik, we're family!" Maddie practically shrieked as she jumped to her feet. 

"We're family?" I repeated, finding myself still questioning it momentarily as I quickly got to my feet, only to flinch when my chair toppled over behind me. "Well, there goes my chair." 

"Oh, forget the chair, this is more important!" Maddie replied, hurrying over to me and hugging me tightly. 

"Okay, Erik, remember that promise I had you make to marry her to take care of her should I die? I take all of that back, just support her emotionally and financially," Charles piped up, laughing through his words. 

I laughed as I recalled that promise he'd had me make when Gustave and William were still young boys. "It's good that you recovered from that bout of influenza, then." 

"Yes, thank goodness for that," Maddie giggled before she turned towards the doorway. "Gustave, Lara, get in here! A discovery has been made!" 

A moment later, both Gustave and Lara stepped into the room, the former gently bouncing his daughter in his arms. "What sort of discovery? Lara was just going to go upstairs and feed Christine, I'm sorry we've been out of the room," he said. 

"Well, it turns out that we are a little closer to being Maddie and Charles' family than we thought," I said, smiling and wrapping my arm around Maddie's waist when her excited giggling continued. 

"In what sense...?" Gustave asked hesitantly as he shot the two of us a suspicious look. 

"We're actually family! By blood!" Maddie blurted out, bouncing up and down on the spot slightly once she'd declared that. 

Both my son and daughter-in-law's jaws dropped. "What? How?!" the former asked. 

"It turns out that my mother is Maddie's great-aunt, which I still don't understand," I said, looking down at my friend. "You are one of the sweetest women I have ever known, while my mother is the devil on earth. I don't see how you two could possibly be related." 

"Don't say that about your mother," Maddie replied as she gave me a disapproving look. 

"You know that I have the right." 

"That doesn't mean you should say it out loud." 

"Well, I have said it before, and I will say it again; she was wicked." 

"Okay, okay, let's set that aside and focus on the fact that we're family!" Gustave said with a laugh. 

Lara smiled at her husband's excitement and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "It's fantastic," she said. "And hey; you did have your father's family at our wedding." 

"Oh my god, you're right." I could see gears turning in his head before he whispered. “William.” I knew he had clued in that he and William would have technically been family and it was hard for any of us to ignore that type of sadness. 

I tried to give him a smile when I noticed tears in his eyes. "No tears,  _ mio soldatino,  _ come on." 

"This is incredible," Charles piped up. 

"Now you're all stuck with him. Adele and I can come and go when we please," Nadir said with a laugh, sounding rather pleased about that idea of freedom, but we both knew that it was a fruitless one. 

"Until one of us is buried in the ground, Daroga, we are stuck together, and we both know that I'm the one who has to go first; I need people to cry at my funeral and God knows that nobody besides you and Gustave will," I retorted. 

I received a swift slap to the chest from Maddie as soon as I'd spoken. "I would cry!" she exclaimed. 

"You say that now," Nadir scoffed. "Spend as many years with him as I have and that feeling slips away." 

"Oh, you know you would cry, Nadir. I think that, besides Gustave, you love Erik the most," Charles said. "Maddie, Lizzie, and I do love him, but I think your bond is different." 

"Yes. 'Bond.' That's the word we'll use." 

"Okay, we have to discuss this a bit more, but maybe once Christine has been fed," Gustave said, hushing his daughter as she started to fuss. 

I nodded as Maddie stepped back over to her spot at the table. "Definitely. And while Lara is feeding the little angel, we can clean up down here," I said as I went to sit down, only to stumble and fall onto the floor as a result of not fixing my chair. Naturally, the reaction of almost everyone in the room was to burst out laughing; Nadir was practically doubled over with the force of his laughter. I was shocked that he didn't manage to hurt himself, frankly. 

The one exception, though, with her big heart, was my goddaughter. "Are you okay, Uncle Erik?" she inquired. 

"Yes princess, I'm fine. Thank you for asking since, apparently, none of my other friends seem to care," I replied, glaring at everyone in the room. 

"We do care, Erik!" Maddie tried to insist even though she was still laughing as she spoke. 

"I don't believe that for a moment," I replied as I pushed myself off of the ground, my back aching as I did, which told me that I was in for quite a bit of pain the next morning. 

The sweet little girl across the table from me jumped out of her seat to run over and climb onto my lap as soon as I sat down. "I care, Uncle Erik! Did you hurt yourself?" she asked, wrapping her arms around me. 

"Yes, I'll be alright, princess. The only thing hurt was my pride," I said as I kissed her forehead. 

"Good," Lizzie replied with a smile. 

"You still have pride?" Nadir queried. 

"Somehow, yes," I replied. 

"I didn't think it was possible." 

Lizzie frowned and gave me a poke in the side. "Be nice to each other." 

"I'm sorry, princess, we will be," I said before I glared at my friend. 

"I promise nothing when your uncle is involved, but I will try, Lizzie," Nadir said with a nod. 

I rolled my eyes before I looked back down at my goddaughter and kissed her cheek. "You know, I suppose we should try and fill Lizzie in on the new development," I said as I looked over at Maddie, then quickly added, "Not it." 

Maddie simply rolled her eyes before she crouched next to my chair and smiled at her daughter. "Lizzie, you know that Uncle Erik isn't really our family by blood, but we still call him family?" 

"Yes, Mommy. I love him," Lizzie giggled as she snuggled closer to my chest, making me smile warmly when she did; I truly had missed that while she'd been gone. 

"Yes, I love him too, but guess what? We are actually a true family! Uncle Erik and Mommy are related, which means you and him are related too!"

With a quiet gasp, Lizzie squealed and whirled around to hug me tightly. "Yay!" she exclaimed, giggling all the while. "That's so cool!" 

"It is cool, isn't it?" I asked with a quiet laugh as I hugged her close to my chest. 

"And Erik and I are only related by marriage, which isn't as cool," Charles added. 

"It means you can still escape," Nadir said. 

"He's not allowed to escape," Maddie quickly pointed out. 

"Not that I would want to, love," Charles replied, leaning over in his seat to kiss her. 

I smiled at the pair before I set Lizzie back on her feet. "Let's clean up so that we can have coffee and dessert ready by the time Gustave and Lara come back down. Then we can keep enjoying our evening together; a true family event, as it turns out." 

~ 

It wasn't long before my son and daughter-in-law returned with their little girl, who was much happier after being fed, and Maddie was quick to jump on the topic of our new revelation again. 

"So now that we know that we're related, I want to know more about your parents, Erik," she said. "You've told us the odd thing, but not much at all, to be honest. I'd like to learn a bit more." 

I sighed quietly, biting back my immediate inclination to deny her request. I never spoke about my parents to her or to anyone, for that matter, but with the discovery that they were a connecting point between us, I knew that I owed her at least some information. Not to mention that Lizzie was out of the room playing with Sasha and Ayesha, so I didn't have to worry about her hearing anything unsavoury; that in itself was a weight off of my chest. 

"Well, quite frankly, I can only give you so many details about the two of them," I replied. "I'll start with my father, I suppose; his name was Charles, like we've covered, and he was an architect. I followed in his footsteps in that regard." 

"Which is very sweet. Is there anything else? Was he funny, serious? Did you two look alike at all?" Maddie inquired. 

"We looked practically identical, besides the obvious, of course. As for his personality, I have heard from a family friend that he was a bit of a comedian. You might have known her, actually; Marie Perrault?" 

"I believe I've heard Father mention the name once or twice." 

I nodded, happy to even be thinking about Marie again; I could only hope she was doing well. "It is a small world indeed," I said. "Anyhow, is there anything else about my father you'd like to know? I will see what I can tell you." 

"Did you two get along?" 

My heart sunk a bit at that. Maddie and Charles knew that my father had passed away, but given how little I spoke about him, it wasn't a complete shock that they didn't know the circumstances or timing of his death. 

"I would like to think we would have, but I can't say anything for certain. He died three months before my birth," I explained. 

"What?" Charles asked, a frown forming on his face. 

"There was a workplace accident, to put it lightly. He was inspecting a construction site for a building that he had designed with no attempt at safety precautions at all, and he fell to his death," I said, only to tip my head to one side as another factor crossed my mind. "Well, the falling bricks came first and that's what killed him, truthfully, but either way, he died rather swiftly, unfortunately." 

"Erik, I imagine there are more delicate ways to phrase it than that," Maddie said softly. She was trying to scold me for being insensitive, but I could already see a sympathetic expression forming on her face. Most of me wanted to tell her to stop, but the part of me that missed my father deeply was the dominant mindset at that moment, so I said nothing. 

"I know, I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be comedic or sarcastic about this, but...that's how it happened. He was dead before they could even get him to the doctor. Before my mother had a chance to say goodbye," I said quietly, trying my hardest to smother the ever-present heartache that came about when I thought about my father. 

"That must have been very difficult for her," Lara piped up. "I can't even imagine how that must have felt, especially considering she was pregnant." 

"I think it was hard, yes," I said with a nod. "Sometimes I imagine that she wouldn't have resented me as much had he been alive. It's probably wishful thinking, though; for all I know, they could have both been the same." 

"Now Erik, you don't know that," Adele pointed out. 

A small smile crossed my face for a moment when I realized that the women had rallied around me to offer comfort; maternal instincts clearly never wore off. 

"It is possible. To be fair, though, we are speaking entirely in the hypothetical, so anything could have happened," I replied. 

"That much is true, yes," Maddie said with a nod. "Is that really all you know about him, though? There's nothing else?" 

I took a moment to think to myself again. "From what I heard, he was very much in love with my mother," I eventually said. 

"Well, that's something at least. It's just such a shame that you never got the chance to meet him." 

"I appreciate the sentiment. I try not to think about what could have been, though; that way, it doesn't bother me." 

I noticed Charles smile slightly at that. "There's a little part of you that misses him without knowing him, isn't there?" he queried. 

My friends caught on quickly, I had to give them that. "There is, yes, and I honestly don't understand how that works," I admitted with a breathy laugh. 

"You were meant to have a father and you never got the chance to. That's how," Lara replied. 

"I technically did still have one, but I just never physically saw him," I said. "I had father figures instead." 

"Which is different from getting the chance to know your real father by blood," Maddie pointed out. 

"Yes, I suppose it is." 

Maddie set her hand over mine then and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Anyhow, all in all, I'm sorry to hear all of that, Erik," she said. "But what about your mother? You've told us that you two...were never close because of your face, but you never really went into detail." 

"Well, for one, she kept me in the attic. That space was my world for the longest time." I figure it would be best to be frank when it came to my mother. No need to draw things out. 

"She  _ what _ ?" 

It was my turn to squeeze Maddie's hand for reassurance as she looked back at me, horror pointed on her face. Variations of that expression were mirrored on the faces of Charles, Gustave, and Lara, while Nadir and Adele simply looked sympathetic; they had known the story of my childhood for years and yet, it never seemed to pain them less to hear. 

"I was kept in the attic; it was the only place in the house where I wouldn't be seen or found. That was the room I knew for most of my time at home," I explained. 

"She hid you away like that? Her own son?" Charles queried. 

"As far as she was concerned, she didn't have a son. I was the rumoured demon that haunted her home." 

"Was that just...how it always was? Ever since you were born?" 

I nodded. "The only other people that I saw were the friend I mentioned earlier and the priest of the town." 

The next thing I knew, Maddie was hugging me. "She never hurt you, did she?" I heard her whisper. 

"I don't think that is something I should get into for your sake," I whispered in response as I wrapped my arms around her, feeling her embrace get tighter as soon I had spoken. 

"So what happened? You clearly got away, how did you manage that?" Charles inquired a moment later. 

"Well," I began, smiling at Maddie when she kissed my cheek before she sat down, "I managed to get away when I was nine and travel with a group of circus performers, then escaped them and travelled to Italy when I was about 12." 

"All the way to Italy from France? That's quite a distance for a boy of that age," Maddie said. 

A fair point, I couldn't deny that. "Well, yes, but I like to think I was mature for my age." 

"All things considered, you must have been," Charles said. 

"Indeed. Still, I was glad for the help that I did have; when I got to Italy, I met Giovanni and he cared for me for a couple of years," I added. 

"Giovanni...the architect. He was the father of the young girl you mentioned years ago, the one you fell for," Maddie said. 

I couldn't help but smile; of course she had remembered my teenage affections for Luciana. "Indeed he was; he's also the man who wanted my grandchild to call me Nonno. He was a good man. Probably more than I deserved." 

"Nonsense. Of course you deserved someone like that, Papa," my son said. 

"And I appreciate that, but things...happened in Italy that dispute that. I won't get into them, though; I'm not proud of them and don't enjoy discussing them," I said as I banished the image of Luciana's broken body from my mind. "I was only there for three years, after all. In fact, now that I think about it, London holds the record for the longest time I have spent in one place." 

"You aren't the same as you once were, Erik," Nadir said, clearly set on not letting that topic slip by without at least a few words of wisdom. "Yes, you've made some questionable decisions, but you are so far from who you were then. The man you used to be is completely different from the man you are now." 

I gave him a small smile as a form of thanks; as much as I pretended it annoyed me, I was almost always grateful for his wisdom. "I suppose you simply have more faith in humanity than I do. I've seen the ugly underbelly and it is not for the faint of heart." 

"Perhaps you have, but you are so far from that now. You are a wonderful man, Erik, and we all love you for that." 

"And I am grateful for everything you've done for me," I replied before I turned back to my newly discovered cousin. "But enough about me, though, really. I have a question for you, Maddie." 

"Well, ask away," she said with a warm smile. 

"Is that...all you heard of my parents while you were away?" All the talk about my mother and father had resurrected my seemingly unending need to know more about them. I had only learned so much about either of them over the years, so I jumped at any chance to learn more. 

"I'm afraid so. I wish I had more to tell you, truly." 

Admittedly, my heart sunk slightly at that confession, but a follow-up question crossed my mind to fix that: "Is there someone who would?" 

"My father would, definitely. We could go down to Bishopstone and visit him if you'd like," Maddie proposed. "I'm sure he'd be happy to meet you; he is technically your cousin, after all." 

"That would be an interesting endeavour, to say the least," I replied, only to sink back in my chair. "He probably wouldn't want to hear from me, though." 

"And why would you think that?" 

"Well, this is all rather unusual. Plus, all he really has to go off of in the way of believing me is the word of mouth from someone he's never even met." 

Maddie simply sighed and gave me a small smile. "So seeing you will help him confirm or deny what you heard. My father isn't the type to pre-judge, Erik, believe me," she said. "Besides, don't you want to meet more of your family?" 

That statement made me pause. It was so foreign to me, someone saying that I had a true blood-related family. It would be an adjustment, that was for certain. 

"Goodness, it really is odd knowing that I might have family out there," I said. 

"I know it's a new feeling for you, which is why I want you to experience how wonderful it is," Maddie replied. "Please consider coming with us to visit my father. He really would be so glad to meet you." 

I sat back and pondered that for a few moments, but an encouraging smile and nod from Gustave helped to solidify my decision. "You know what? The worst that could happen is that he tells us that we were wrong about our relationship. I suppose it can't hurt." 

"Oh, good! We'll arrange it soon then!" 

"Wonderful. Just let me know when I should start packing." 

* * *

We had made our way to the sitting room, cups of tea and Maddie's cookies in hand, and had been chatting more about our discovery; needless to say we were all rather amazed by it. Of course we were, though; to realize we were related after almost 15 years of friendship was quite the shock. 

"So do you have pictures of your parents, Erik?" Lara inquired. "I like to think that you would, but given your childhood circumstances, I don't want to jump to any conclusions." 

"I have one photograph of each of them, yes," I nodded. "Portraits, more or less, set in one frame." 

"Could we see it? if you aren't comfortable with that, it's alright, but I'd love to see it if you don't mind," Lara said softly. 

I didn't have to think about that for too long: "of course I don't mind. I'll just be a moment." 

Getting to my feet, I kissed Christine's cheek before I walked up the stairs to my bedroom and gently picked up the framed photographs of my parents from atop my dresser. The frame had been replaced after the glass had broken all those years ago; as symbolic as it may have been that my mother had taken the brunt of the damage, looking at a broken frame was immensely dissatisfying to me, so I had purchased a replacement. The note that my mother had left for me in the old frame had since been tucked away in one of my drawers, keeping it out of both sight and mind. 

I made my way back down to join my family, smiling at Lara before I handed her the frame. "There you are." 

She studied the photographs intently for a few moments before she looked back at me. "Goodness, you look so much like your father," she said. 

"So I've been told, and considering that he was a handsome man, I must thank you for that," I replied with a quiet laugh. 

"Oh, you're handsome too, hush," Maddie quickly retorted as she leaned over to glance at the photographs, looking between them and me. "You have your mother's eyes." 

"Gustave said the very same thing when he saw that photograph for the first time years ago," I said, giving her a small smile. 

"And all things considered with how I feel about your mother, that is true; she has nice eyes and you inherited them," Gustave said with a nod. 

I couldn't help but chuckle as he grasped at straws to find something positive to say about my mother. "I appreciate that, my boy." 

Lara set the photograph down on the coffee table and went back to chatting with Maddie and Adele at that, so I turned my attention to my granddaughter. 

"Are you enjoying that biscuit, Christine?" I asked with a smile as I watched her mouthing at an Arrowroot cookie. 

The girl nodded and smiled around the cookie in her mouth. "Nonno," she said, reaching towards me with the hand free of any biscuits." 

"Okay, come here." I lifted her off of Nadir's lap and settled her on my knee, kissing the top of her head. "There we are. Now we're together." 

"Nonno," Christine said softly as she held out her cookie to me in an attempt to share. 

I chuckled as I glanced at the half-eaten, slightly damp biscuit, then gently pushed her hand back towards her mouth. "Thank you, my angel, but that's your biscuit. I had mine already." 

My answer seemed to be a satisfying one to her as she continued to eat her biscuit in content silence, but a few moments later, she looked back up at me and made a request: "Nonno, sing." 

"Sing?" I repeated, trying to ignore the fact that heads had turned towards me at that suggestion. "I don't know my angel. Maybe later." 

As soon as a disappointed little pout formed on her face, I felt my heart ache. I so hated disappointing her, but singing...that was something I hardly ever did after losing Christine, and never in front of such a big group, as close as I was to everyone in the room. 

"Sing, Nonno," Christine insisted, gently patting my chest, 

"Erik, why don't you sing something?" Charles queried. "You clearly do, given your granddaughter's request." 

"Well, I- not very much. I only sing for her, really," I replied, trying to dissuade them in any way I could think of. 

"Oh, please, Erik? We'd love to hear your voice, Gustave has told us that it's beautiful," Maddie said with a smile. 

My anxiety was already mounting, so I turned to Gustave for support, but frowned as I watched him walk over to the piano and sit down on the bench. "What are you doing?" 

"I'm going to play something for you to sing. You need accompaniment, don't you?" he said rather matter-of-factly, as if me singing to a crowd, albeit a small one, made perfect sense to him. 

"What- I...I don't know, Gustave, really," I replied with a slight shake of my head. 

"Papa, you can do this. You haven't sung in a while and I know you need music; this will be good for you," my son said softly, giving me a reassuring smile. "We can do the song you sang to me when I was a boy, the one you sang for Mother. You know that so well and I can play the melody, it will be fine." 

I couldn't say what about that proposition had calmed me - the connection to Christine, most likely, - but all of a sudden, singing didn't seem like such an awful idea anymore. Gustave was right; I loved that song and knew it like the back of my hand, even more so after it had become a lullaby for both my son and granddaughter. So, with that small boost of confidence, I gave my son a nod and got to my feet, passing Christine off to Lara. 

I stepped over to the piano and drummed my fingers on the top of it while I listened to Gustave play a few scales to warm up, trying to calm my nerves. 

"Hey," I heard my son whisper, and I turned to find him watching me with a small smile. "it's okay, you'll be fine. If you really don't want to do this, you don't have to." 

"No, I can do it," I whispered back. "As you said, it...it will be good for me to do it again. It has been too long." 

"Okay," Gustave said with a smile, reaching over to set his hand over mine and squeeze it. "You can do this. Keep your back to them to start. They can still hear you if you do, and you can turn when you're ready." 

I nodded, taking his advice to keep my back to our friends, at least to start. I listened closely as Gustave played the opening notes of the song and, before I could think twice, started to sing. The lyrics flowed from my lips as if I had sung them to my Christine only days ago, and it was the thought of her that gave me the confidence to turn around to face my friends and family as I sang through the end of the second verse; it felt like Christine was there with me, and that was something that hadn't been so real to me in quite some time. 

The reactions from everyone in the room were a mix of countless emotions. Nadir and Adele, for one, wore rather fond smiles on their faces; they were familiar with my voice and simply hadn't heard it in a while. The same could be said for Lizzie and Christine, but in the case of Maddie, Charles, and Lara, the only way to describe their reactions was shocked. Their jaws hung open, their eyes were wide, but it wasn't as if I'd expected anything other than that; Maddie and Charles had  _ never  _ heard me sing, and Lara had only heard brief snippets during our lessons as I helped to demonstrate the placement of a note. It was new to almost everyone, making it even more interesting to experience. 

Time seemed to fly by for a moment, but as I approached the climax of the song, I found my stress building again; it had been so long since I had truly sung and reached notes of that calibre. I worried about my pitch and breathing and whether I could belt the note as it should have been, but I found my tension starting to reflect itself in my voice; my jaw was tightening up and I was starting to have to sing around a lump in my throat, so I quickly banished any worries, shut my eyes and let my voice soar as it once had so long ago. 

As my voice lightened up to sing the remaining verses, I opened my eyes again to read the reactions in the room, finding that Maddie had her hand over her mouth and mouth she and Lara had tears in their eyes. My music and voice always had had a talent for making people emotional, and I supposed that years of not using it made no difference. 

The song came to a close and I could hear my blood pumping in my ears. I was still shocked that I had even done that; singing without Christine had always felt so wrong, but something had changed all of a sudden. 

The only thing that brought me out of my reverie was the sound of applause, which I realized had been started by Lizzie and little Christine with the rest of the group joining them a moment later. I smiled sheepishly as I took a bow, not entirely sure why their praise was making me blush but realizing I couldn't stop, so I wouldn't bother trying. 

"I didn't know you could sing like that, Erik. That...that was incredible," Charles said. "I mean, I knew you had to be good, given that you trained both Christine and Lara, whose voices are beautiful, but wow, that was more than I ever could have imagined." 

"Well, thank you. It's been years since I last sang like that, so it probably wasn't all that good, truthfully, but I appreciate that," I replied, giving him a small smile as I toyed with my wedding band. 

"You should have heard his voice in his younger days as well. It's absolutely beautiful now, without a shadow of a doubt, but it really was amazing when I got to hear him perform in Persia," Nadir said. 

"You flatter me, Daroga, really," I said with a quiet laugh, turning to Gustave as he got up and hugged me. 

"I told you," he whispered in my ear. "I knew you could do it." 

I nodded and gave him a squeeze, then looked down and smiled when Lizzie wrapped her arms around my leg. The joy I had always felt when I sang had returned and it made me realize how much I had missed it over the years. 

"It really was beautiful, Erik. Gustave mentioned you sang it to Christine; did you write it for her?" Maddie inquired. 

With that one question, everything came crashing in on me, my anxiety returning in full force. I  _ had  _ written that song for Christine; it had been  _ our  _ song to share, and our son by extension, not anyone else. I had betrayed her trust yet again. 

Before I truly realized what I was doing, I had pulled away from my son and goddaughter's embrace and hurried out of the room, making my way up to my study. With shaky hands, I turned over the framed photograph of Christine that sat on my desk; I couldn't look at her knowing that I had gone back on yet another promise I had made to her, even if it had been a silent one rather than a spoken one between us. 

"Oh Christine, I'm sorry," I breathed as I began to pace back and forth, finding that to be the only outlet for my anxiety that I could think of at the moment. "God, I can't believe I just did that. That was our song, what was I thinking? I'm so sorry." 

I heard footsteps then, but didn't even need to look up to see who it was, for I knew; the gentle hand on my shoulder to stop me from pacing was enough to tell me that my oldest friend had come to my aid yet again. I truly would never be able to repay him for all he had done over the course of our friendship. 

"Erik, stop. You know that pacing will get you nowhere," he said gently. 

"Nadir, you don't understand," I replied as I managed to stop and turn to him. "That was my and Christine's song. I wrote that for only her ears to hear, at least when it is sung in its true capacity and not as a lullaby. I swore to myself after I lost her that I would never sing it without her." 

He sighed quietly but then gave me a warm smile. "You do realize who you just shared it with, don't you? Her son, her granddaughter; the family that you two started together. You did sing it with her, Erik, she simply wasn't there in person. She was a talented woman with a love for music as strong as yours; do you truly believe that she would want a piece of art as magnificent as that to stay silent and to be buried with you? You cannot apologize to the dead forever, my friend. I know much you loved her and that you will never truly move on, but you should attempt to see it in the sense that, as long as you have Gustave, she is never really gone." 

I nodded and took a deep breath as my nerves started to subside; Nadir always knew what to say to help me manage my anxiety. "I suppose you're right. I just needed some air, that's why I ran off like that," I explained. "The last time I sang that song, she was with me, she was in my arms, and I was flooded with that memory. The feeling of just getting to hold her close." 

"I understand, believe me," Nadir replied, and I knew that he did; as in love as he was with Adele, I was well aware that he had his days when memories of Rookheya made things a struggle for him. "There is no reason that a performance like that wouldn't have been an emotional one, but I can assure you that Christine would be very proud. You know that, don't you?" 

"I can only hope." 

"Hope? My, having a child really has changed you, Erik. You were always so sure of everything in Persia." 

I couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, because I was a young, arrogant, outspoken little twit in Persia." 

“For everything except young, you shouldn’t be using the past tense,” my friend added. 

The two of us laughed together, only to turn to the door when Gustave walked in with his daughter in his arms. 

"She was wondering where you were and couldn't quite manage the stairs," he said. "Are you alright, Papa? I'm sorry if I pushed you when you didn't want to do that." 

"No, you didn't push me, it's alright. I just got a bit overwhelmed, that's all," I replied, taking Christine from him as she reached out for me. '"Hello, my angel." 

"Nonno," she said with a giggle, setting her hand on my cheek. "Nonno sing." 

"Yes, I did sing. I wrote that song for your Nana," I said, gently brushing her cheek with the backs of my fingers as tears pricked at my eyes. "You can help me make music now, can't you? Just like your Nana." 

My granddaughter smiled and set her head on my shoulder, which let me hold her close as I loved to do whenever I got the chance. 

"Why don't we head back downstairs, hm?" Nadir suggested as he set his hand on my back. "I think being with everyone will help you." 

"Agreed. Maddie wants to apologize as well; she thinks she caused you to run off with the question she asked," Gustave added.

I couldn't help but sigh at that comment. "She shouldn't be holding this against herself," I said, already starting to make my way out of my study and down to the sitting room. 

"No, but you know how she is. She hates to think she's upset anyone, especially you," my son replied 

"I know, I know. That heart of hers is too big for her little body." I stepped into the room where the rest of my friends and family still sat and smiled at Maddie when she quickly got to her feet. "Please don't feel bad." 

"I shouldn't have asked you about the song. I knew it was for Christine, that should have been enough," she said as she stepped over to hug me. "I'm sorry I upset you." 

"You didn't, dear, don't worry," I replied, kissing the top of her head. "I haven't sung in years, I was just a bit overwhelmed, that's all." 

"Alright, as long as you're sure," Maddie sighed, giving me a gentle squeeze before she looked up at me. "Your voice truly is beautiful, Erik."

"Oh, thank you. I hadn't really warmed up at all, so it was a bit strained, but that's sweet of you to say." 

"I don't know enough about music to be able to tell, so it sounded lovely nonetheless." 

"It was really pretty, Uncle Erik!" Lizzie declared from her spot on the sofa. "You should sing all the time now!" 

I laughed to myself as I passed Christine over to Maddie, then walked to the sofa to pick my goddaughter up and kiss her cheek. "I will consider it," she replied, smiling as I started to tickle her side. 

She shrieked and giggled, squirming in my arms. "Don't tickle, Uncle Erik!" she said through her laughter. 

"Oh, but it's fun!" I chuckled as I sat on the sofa with the giggling girl on my lap. "Let your Uncle have some fun." 

I didn't even get a reply - simply more giggles - but the next thing I knew, I had let out a yelp when my goddaughter managed to find the post on my side where I was ticklish, even though I had tried to hide that information from her. "Oh no, Lizzie, please." 

Her eyes immediately lit up when she realized what she had just discovered and she giggled even louder than before as her tickling continued. That only made me start to laugh as I tried to push her away; I had missed getting to play with her while she had been away. 

A few moments later, I managed to push the girl off of my lap and onto the sofa before I got to my feet. "My sides hurt, you have to stop," I begged, still laughing as I glanced at Maddie and found her no longer holding my granddaughter. "Where's Christine?" 

"Lara went to put her to sleep. She was nodding off even with all of this ruckus," she replied with a chuckle. 

I nodded and turned to see Lizzie running over, undoubtedly having hoped for a sneak attack, but I was quick to scoop her up and toss her over my shoulder. "Oh, no, no. You aren't getting me again." 

"Alright kids, don't hurt yourselves," Gustave said, laughing as he watched the two of us roughhousing. 

"But Uncle Gustave, we're having fun!" Lizzie retorted, her words barely understandable through her laughing. 

"Yes, Gustave, we're having fun," I echoed. 

"Now, now, Lizzie, your Uncle Erik isn't as young as he likes to think he is, so you have to play nice," Charles said, a slightly warning tone to his voice. 

I frowned and turned to shoot my friend a glare. "Rude." 

"Charles does raise a fair point to a degree, Erik," Lara said as she stepped back into the room and decided to play the responsible adult in the room; Adele would have done so if she hadn't been resting her head on Nadir's shoulder with her eyes closed. "So settle down a bit or take this to another room so nothing ends up broken." 

"Everything will be fine. I didn't get to do this when I was her age, so I am making sure that she gets her childhood and I get to relive mine. Therefore, unless you are joining us, let us be. I'll make sure nothing breaks," I replied, shooting her a reassuring smile. 

"You're putting a damper on our fun," Lizzie said, her voice of words making all of us laugh. 

"Oh, I don't mean to do that, I have nothing against the two of you having fun," Lara replied. "just be careful, okay? There are breakables in this room, that's what I'm worried about. I would join you if I wasn't concerned about that." 

"I thought we were working together on this," Charles said with a frown. 

"We were, but her giggles are contagious." 

I smiled as Lara defected to our side of the argument, only to gasp sharply when Lizzie tickled my sides again, having to scramble to keep my hold on her. 

"Elizabeth, I'll drop you, stop it," I warned even though I laughed through my words. 

"You won't drop me," Lizzie replied, sounding quite confident in that claim. 

I, however, was never one to fake a threat, so to make good on what I had said, I promptly walked over to the sofa and dropped her onto the cushions, smiling as I listened to her laughter. 

"I haven't the slightest idea as to how both Christine and my wife have managed to doze off amidst all this noise," Nadir remarked with a quiet laugh. 

"I'm not asleep, I'm resting my eyes," we all heard Adele mumble even as she shuffled closer to her husband, her hand coming to rest on his chest over his heart.

I couldn't help but smile at the pair; they were one of the few couples whose public displays of affection I didn't mind seeing. 

"Of course, our mistake. Still, if you actually are dozing off, Adele, you aren't alone, it seems," Charles said as he looked over at Lizzie, who was yawning and rubbing her eyes. "Someone's tired, hm? Did Uncle Erik tire you out with all the tickles?" 

Lizzie nodded and reached out for her father, making him sigh playfully as he stood and lifted her up. "You're getting too big for this, my dear." I suppose that was somewhat true, even though she took after her mother's petite build. 

"Daddy, I want to sleep over with Uncle Erik," she said a moment later as she turned and reached towards me, seemingly having used her father as a mere vessel to get to me. 

I smiled and took her from Charles, kissing her cheek. "You can certainly sleep over tonight, my darling. I have a spare nightgown for you to change into and you can sleep in Gustave's old room," I said. 

"No, I want to sleep with you in your room." 

"But Lizzie, princess, you can have a whole bed to yourself in Gustave's room." 

"I want to be with you. You can keep the monsters away." 

I sighed, but couldn't resist her request. "Alright, you can sleep with me tonight," I replied before I looked up at her parents, Nadir, and Adele. "I do believe the night has wound down; it's been an eventful one, that much is true. Why don't you all get home and rest?" 

"We will take you up on that," Maddie said with a nod, smiling as she stepped over to hug me. "Tonight was so wonderful, Erik. I'm so glad we finally learned the truth about our families." 

"As am I. It's amazing," I said softly, kissing her cheek. "Now come, I'll see all of you out."

I followed everyone to the foyer, passing out coats from the closet and saying good night before I stood in the front door to see that everyone reached their cars safely. I had hardly been standing there for a minute, though, before I jumped when I was poked in the sides. Closing the door, I whirled around to see my son with a devilish grin on his face. I considered chasing him, but with Lizzie in my arms and Christine asleep upstairs, I decided to just take a menacing step forward, which still made him scurry off, and that was enough to satisfy me. 

"My husband is a child and somehow, so is my father-in-law. How did this happen?" Lara wondered aloud as she laughed at the two of us. 

"You won some contest, that's how," Gustave said as he reappeared from the kitchen and stood behind his wife for protection. 

"He's not wrong, dear," I said. 

Lara simply shook her head fondly before she hugged me. "I would help Gustave tickle you, but you have a little girl to put to bed, while I have to go check on Christine and get our things ready to go home." 

"Yes, go right ahead. We'll behave, I promise," I replied, kissing her forehead before I walked down the hall towards the stairs, poking Gustave along the way and ignoring his sounds of annoyance. 

I got up to my bedroom and sat Lizzie down on my bed, then quickly found her nightgown in one of the bottom drawers of my dresser before I helped her slip out of her day dress and leggings to change into it, giving her kisses all the while so I could see her smile that I had missed so much while she'd been away. 

"Now, are you sure you want to sleep in my bed with me and not have the bed to yourself in Gustave's room?" I asked as I grabbed a hairbrush from my ensuite before I sat behind her to gently take out her braids. 

"I'm sure. I like your bed and I want to cuddle with you during the night," she replied. 

"Ah, I see. Keeping the monsters away and cuddling. Those are definitely two good reasons to stay in here with me." 

"I think so too." 

I smiled and set her hair ribbons aside before starting to run the brush through her hair, listening to her quietly humming to herself as she did and finding my heart aching slightly. The domesticity and peace of the situation made me think of how it might have been to do the very same thing with a daughter of my own while Christine washed up for bed in the ensuite. As happy as that made me, I knew I had to push it aside; it wasn't possible anymore, and the closest thing I had to a daughter was right there with me, so I would cherish what I had. 

"Well, I don't think there are any monsters here. I got rid of those years ago when your Uncle Gustave was a little boy, so they're long gone," I said in an effort to reassure her of her safety. 

"Do you promise?" she asked. "Daddy said he got rid of them when William was alive, but I still think there's one in my closet." 

"You know, your brother told me the same thing, but I'm sure your father has gotten rid of it. He's a strong man, he can get rid of anything if it means keeping you and your brother safe." 

Lizzie turned around then, taking the brush from me and setting it next to my leg before she climbed onto my lap. "Uncle Erik, did you love William?" 

I couldn't help but sigh at the question, feeling the ever-present hole in my heart that William once occupied start to ache, especially with the fourth anniversary of his death having just passed two months prior. Even still, I smiled at her and said, "I did, yes. I loved him very, very much, like he was my own son." 

"Can you tell me about him?" Lizzie queried. "Mommy and Daddy tell me stories, but I want to hear yours too." 

"Well..." I began, thinking to myself for a moment, "he was very energetic. He and Gustave would run around our backyard and house playing their ridiculous games and making quite a mess in the meantime. That was never the fun part because I had to clean up after them, but I loved their laughs, so I never stopped them." 

"He was always thinking as well. His mind was very busy, just like yours; he always had something going on in there. Now, whether or not that got him into trouble was a different matter, but he was always thinking nonetheless. 

"What else, what else...oh, well, he loved food. God, he practically cleared out our icebox every time he visited with his constant snacking." 

Lizzie giggled at that. "Mommy says Daddy does the same thing. She calls him a bear getting ready to hibernate."

"I would have to agree with your mother; your father does love to eat," I chuckled. 

"What else was there about William?" 

I paused for another moment, trying to filter through all the things that I had loved about that boy. "I think what stood out the most to me was his kindness. He was one of the sweetest boys I have ever known. He always had a smile on his face and tried to get other people to smile as well; especially me, though, with his sense of humour, he never had to try very hard.

"He loved his life and everyone in it so very much; he loved your mother and father, he loved me, Gustave, and all their friends, your Auntie Jane, and...and he loved you too.”

"But I wasn't born yet," Lizzie said softly. 

"And he still loved you very, very much," I replied as I gently cupped her face in my hands and brushed my thumb against her cheek. "He was so excited when he found out that you were in your Mommy's tummy; I was there when she told him. He could hardly talk, he was so choked, but he got up and hugged her so tightly. He was so excited to be a big brother." 

"But he never got to be one." 

I sighed quietly and held the girl close to my chest as she sat up to hug me. "No, sadly he didn't." 

We stayed like that for a few minutes, simply taking comfort in each other, before Lizzie spoke up with a question that made a lump grow in my throat: "Why did William have to die, Uncle Erik?" 

"He...he went to war to be a hero, princess. He fought to keep all of us - you and me and your parents and all of London - safe from the evil people who wanted to cause harm, and he did just that," I explained, my voice thick as I tried to keep any potential tears at bay. "He may have died, but he died so that he could keep you safe and give you a better world to grow up in. You have to understand that, my darling." 

I felt her nod her head. "Okay. I understand."

"Good," I whispered, kissing her temple before I stood and turned to flip her down onto the bed, peering her cheeks with kisses to make her giggle and smile even with what we had just discussed. "Now, go to sleep. I'll be up soon to go to bed, but I just want to say goodbye to Gustave and his family first." 

"But I want you to read to me," she replied.

"Oh, of course. How could I forget the story? Go pick out a book, then." 

With a nod, she scurried off of the bed to step over to my bookshelf, only to slow to a stop in front of my dresser and walk over to look at the photographs of my parents; Lara must have brought them back up when she put Christine down to sleep.

"Uncle Erik, who are these people?" she asked as she stood on her tiptoes to carefully grab the frame before walking back to the bed. 

I smirked, realizing she hadn't paid attention when I had shown off the photos earlier that evening. "Those are my parents. Just be careful with that, princess, please," I said softly. 

"Okay. Your mommy's pretty, Uncle Erik," Lizzie said with a smile. 

"Yes, I...I think she is too," I replied as I lifted her onto my lap. 

"Could I meet them?" she inquired, looking up at me expectantly. 

"No, dear, they...my father passed away, and...and my mother is gone too." 

"Oh. Have they been gone for a long time?" 

"They have, yes. My father died when I was still in my mother's belly, and my mother...she left when I was very young." That wasn't a complete lie; it just wasn't the whole truth either. 

Lizzie nodded and turned to hug me. "I'm sorry they're gone," she whispered.

"Oh, it's okay, princess. I...I do miss them sometimes, but I'm okay most of the time. It's not so sad now that it's been so long," I replied, kissing the top of her head. "But that's sweet of you to say I appreciate it. Now, why don't you go put this back very carefully and then pick out a book, hm?" 

With another nod, she slid off of my lap and I couldn't help but smile at how careful she was as she set the framed photos of my parents back on top of my dresser; clearly, she could tell that it was special to me and wanted to keep it safe. 

She then scanned my bookshelf, and I couldn't help but laugh to myself when she hurried back to the bed with a worn green book in hand; I had almost forgotten that I had moved it from Gustave's room to my own after he had moved out. 

" _ The Wizard of Oz.  _ Good choice," I said as I tucked her into bed and sat beside her. This was Gustave's favourite book to read when he was little, you know. Whenever one of us was sick or hurt or we couldn't sleep, we'd read it together." 

"Wow. Is that why it looks so old and broken?" 

"Yes, we read it quite a bit; Gustave loved it. I read it to him and your brother once or twice when they had sleepovers." 

"And now you get to read it to me," Lizzie said with a grin.

"Yes, I do. Now, cuddle close and I'll start reading." 

In truth, I probably could have recited that book from memory, but I figured that, so as not to look a tad strange to my goddaughter, simply reading would be easier. I didn't end up doing that for all that long, though; I had barely started the second chapter when I noticed that Lizzie had nodded off, so I set the book aside and kissed her before I quietly walked down to the sitting room. 

"The day that Christine and Lizzie are running around together will be a day to remember," I said to my son as I sat down and took a breath. 

"More like the end of the world," Gustave chuckled. 

"Perhaps, but their giggles will make it all worth it, I think." 

"Without a doubt." 

I smiled at my son as he collected his daughter's toys to put them away. "Parenthood seems to be treating you well so far, my boy," I remarked. 

"Well, it helps when you have a child and partner like I do," he replied with a smile. 

"I would imagine," I said. "What...what was it like? To have a baby, to be there when she was born. I wouldn't know, so I'm curious." 

"It was amazing. I was so scared when she was born, I couldn't think, but after holding her and looking her in the eyes, everything got put into perspective," he said. "I had never had that happen before. Have you?" 

I smiled fondly at him as he sat down beside me. "Oh, yes." 

"Let's hear it then," he prompted. 

"Well, it's only truly happened twice in my life. The first was when I saw your mother for the first time. I saw her beautiful face and heard her immaculate voice and I knew that I had found the woman that I wanted to love and cherish for the rest of my life. Everything seemed to make sense at that moment; she was the reason I was born. 

"And the second time was with you, the night that I brought to my home on Coney Island. When I saw you asleep in my armchair in my sitting holding a pillow like it was your favourite stuffed bear, everything fell into place right there and then. A little light had appeared in my world of darkness that had only gotten so much darker when I lost your mother. You were my saving grace, Gustave." 

He smiled warmly and reached over to take my hand. "I'm glad," he said. "But that is something I always wondered; why Mother didn't tell me about you or take me to you sooner." 

“Gustave, your mother was a well-known, respected woman in society, for both her talent and theatrical success and for the man she had married. If it had been discovered that she had a child with a man other than her husband, you can only imagine what that would have done to her reputation. On top of that, she truly loved the Vicomte; wanting to break his heart was not high on her to-do list. Besides that...a normal life for you was what she wanted. She had told me that she wished I could have known, but...the circumstances never allowed it.”

"I'll never understand why she stayed; it's not as if he gave her much reason to. I just feel that so much pain, so many bad memories could have been avoided." 

I sighed and stroked his knuckles with my thumb as a soothing gesture. "At the beginning, it was love. I saw the way she looked at him when they were newly courting and engaged; he was her world, just as she was mine. Even still, time changes people, and the Vicomte was one of time’s victims. If I had been able to, if I had known about you, I would have come straight to Paris and taken the two of you away to give you the life both of you so badly deserved.”

"Mother deserved so much better," my son said quietly. 

"Don't even get me started. She deserved the world and I had been prepared to find a way to give it to her, but...but the morning after she found me and we had been together...my own fear crippled me. I feared what she would think if she woke up and saw me lying by her side, so I whispered a goodbye and fled," I replied. "I blame myself for that constantly; I could have saved her from so much grief. I could have had a baby."

"I could have had a father that I could actually look up to." 

I had pulled my hand away from his by then and my nails were digging into my palms as a question crossed my mind: "I recall at the funeral, you said to him that you would find her crying. Did that happen often?" 

"I'm not continuing until you uncurl your fingers," Gustave said simply. 

"It's subconscious when I talk about that sad excuse for a man and what he's done to my family," I sighed. 

"I know, but we never have to see him again, alright?" 

"And thank goodness for that," I said as I managed to relax my fingers, resting my hands on my thighs so that he could tell. "Now, my fingers have uncurled. Continue." 

He still hesitated a bit. "Are you sure you want to know?" he asked. 

"Not knowing keeps me awake at night, if I must be honest with you," I replied quietly. 

"Alright then. I never saw him hit her, but from outside their room at night, I would hear him yelling. Once he left, I would go in to check on her," Gustave explained. "There was one time when I went in and saw that her neck was a bit red and her eyes were puffy from crying. I wanted to comfort her, but she sent me to bed. She wore her dresses with high necks for a few weeks after, and we both know she hated those. I never knew what to think of it at the time; I didn’t know how to ask her why she was wearing them, so I just didn’t. Not that I think she would have told me.”

"God, that drunken monster," I growled as I buried my face in my hands when tears filled my eyes, the image of Christine trapped in high-necked dresses and left to cry at night because of him and his abuses. "I never should have let her go." 

"Papa, you can't blame yourself. You were afraid, and you didn't know that he would become so cruel," Gustave said softly. 

"I should have kept you both close to me. You both paid the price for me leaving that morning." 

I felt the couch shift slightly at that and then he was pulling my hands away from my face so I could see him kneeling in front of me. "If it's any consolation, I forgive you, and I know she would have too," he said softly, reaching up to brush a stray tear from my cheek. 

"She forgave too easily," I whispered. 

"She forgave you because she loved you. You wrote it yourself, remember? Love never dies." 

I smiled slightly and leaned forward to press my forehead against his. "How did I get so fortunate to have you in my life?" 

"Fate is funny that way," Gustave said with a smile, only to turn his head when we heard his daughter start to cry. "Oh, dear." 

“Let's go see her. It'll be easier to get her home if she's asleep already," I said, pushing my own feelings aside to help my son.

With a nod, Gustave stood up and we hurried up to his old bedroom, where Christine's bassinet was for when I cared for her, finding her squirming around as she cried.

Gustave scooped her up and tried to hush and soothe her, but when he failed to settle her, he turned to me. "Why don't you handle this, Papa? You could use some baby cuddles, right now, I think," he said. 

I smiled, knowing that he was passing her off mostly for that, but partially because he was still a bit anxious when he couldn't get her to quiet down, and took my granddaughter from his arms, propping her against my shoulder. "Shh, my angel, you're alright. Nonno and Papa are here," I whispered, gently rubbing her back as I started to sing the lullaby I had put in the music that I had made for the Russian royals so long ago. 

By the end of the song, Christine had dozed off again, baffling my son: "That song clearly has magic powers. Where did you hear it?"

"I composed it. I built a music box for the Romanov family on the throne at the time when I lived in Russia. I believe it was found to be Anastasia's as of when she died," I whispered as I laid Christine back in her bassinet. "A memory of mine, my boy." 

"Ah, you wrote it, so it is magic." 

I laughed quietly and ushered him out of the room, amused by his faith in my music's supposed magical abilities. "She can tell you're stressed, you know. That's what hinders you occasionally when you try to soothe her. You can be so overbearing, Gustave."

"Well, Papa, what can I say? Like father, like son." 


End file.
